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by ConvictionSC
Summary: I'm Grayson Kovac, and I'm a SWAT tactical technician. Or at least I used to be, until found myself stuck in a God damned game I had no clue about, courtesy of a glitch. Now I try to survive in a universe full of ugly aliens for 3 years without getting my head popped. Mass Effect sucks big time. SI with an ultra renegade Shepard. OCs of any race/gender needed - leave as review!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: To be honest, I'd never thought that I would write an SI. I thought they were lame. But then I realised that I was lame anyway. I still have a Heavy Rain fic going on, but what the heck. **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

* * *

"Okay... Just a bit more..." My friend, Foster said as he tweaked his latest invention. "There! Done!" He beamed brightly at me. "The ingenious Mark Foster presents... the Integrated Sensory Console 1.7! Or ISC for short, the latest revolution of the video gaming industry!"

"Riiiiight..." I couldn't help but get sceptical. The ISC was Mark's latest project. He'd always wanted to be the next hotshot inventor of his time and apparently thought that building a machine that alllowed people to truly 'feel' video games with all five senses was a good idea. I looked at the machine with unease. Not that I doubted the MIT graduate's engineering capabilities, but it was probably best to keep in mind that Thomas Edison had failed a thousand times before finally inventing the lightbulb.

"Try it, Grayson!" he said enthusiastically.

"Woah there, cowboy. You want _me_ to just plug myself into a machine that has never been tested before?"

"Don't worry, it's version 1.7! It's improved."

"Well I definitely think you can improve it some more."

"Oh come on, Grayson, you're the tactical technician of a SWAT team unit and you're afraid of a video game console?"

"_Untested_ video game console," I corrected. But I gave in anyway. "Fine, but you gotta teach me how to use it first." He flashed that big bright smile again. "I'm warning you, Mark, if anything goes wrong I'm going to have to arrest you for endangering Boston's best police officer."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." He went to a shelf and brought out a _stack_ of video games. "So... what game do you have in mind?"

"How would I know? I don't play video games." In my line of work, you put your life in danger in so many situations that you'd get sick at how ordinary civilians crave for violence in games. "What'd you recommend?"

"Mass Effect." I frowned at the weird name. "It's like this sci-fi game set in the future where you're this really awesome Commander Shepard that gets to shoot ugly aliens and blinky flashlights!"

"Riiight..."

"And guess what? This is the badass edition! The content of all three games combined into one that BioWare released a couple of months ago!" Mark told me to just lay down on the couch while he started up his 'baby'. I was happy for him though. If nothing went wrong, all he needed to do was to patent this invention and he'd be the guy he always wanted to be. Not everyone could do that. He held up two rather devious looking sort of patches, attached with wires that were linked to the contraption.

"Don't worry, it's not gonna sting," he said, slapping them onto my temples. "Now just close your eyes."

I did as told. The next time I opened my eyes -or what I thought was opening my eyes- it was whole new sensation, as if you were teleported to a very dark room.

"Don't worry, that's just the game loading up!" I heard Mark say. I turned around, expecting him to be there, but he wasn't. Even if he was, I couldn't see him anyway. His voice sounded distant, yet close at the same time. Images started to fizzle, and then cleared up. I marveled at the graphics. It was as close to real life as you could get. But suddenly the image blacked out. The words **'TECHNICAL ERROR FOUND'** that followed didn't really boost my confidence.

"Hey Mark! Is everything alright?" No response. "Mark!" I shouted. Nothing.

_Just chill out, Grayson Kovac_, I told myself. _Dude's probably just too busy fixing_. _Just stay frosty_._ It'll be fine, everything's fine._

The world around me fizzled again. And about a second later I found myself in a very bizzare place. It was crowded, that's for sure. A couple brushed past me wearing even weirder clothes. And then my jaw dropped as I saw this seven-feet tall, bird-man brush past me. Mark certainly wasn't exaggerating the ugly aliens part.

_This is one weird ass game._

Where was I? Didn't games start from a specific point? Oh right, I was supposed to be some Commander Shepard. But instead of finding myself in some equally eccentric clothing or futuristic-looking armour, I looked down to find myself in T-shirt and jeans.

_Okay... Points for realism deducted, I guess..._

And then I realised that there weren't any intructions on how to play either. I tried saying 'menu' in my mind for a couple of times, but nothing happened. Perhaps commands were supposed to be said out loud.

_Meh_.

"Menu," I said dryly. Nothing happened. "Menu." I was starting to lose my patience. "MENU! SETTINGS! OPTIONS! WHATEVER! ALTERNATE F4! SHUT DOWN!" But instead of a screen, I got incredulous looks from everyone around me, including a blue woman with no ears and some sort of tentacle crown. And that was when I heard it amidst all the noise.

"Citadel Breaking News: Famous Alliance soldier and the first Human Spectre Commander Shepard has been announced to be killed in action. More updates coming soon."

And suddenly there were sharp whispers everywhere, gasps of shock. The only thing that my mind could process was '_what the fuck?'._

If Commander Shepard was dead, then who was I?

_Stay calm, Grayson. You're a SWAT member. You don't panic._

It was at this time when two more bird-men approached me.

_Oh shit_.

I was a decent fighter, but I was pretty those two could simply throw me to the wall.

"Excuse me sir, is something the matter?" one of them asked.

_They speak English?_

There was a certain flanging aspect to the bird-man's voice.

"Sir?"

I struggled to get something out. "I um... I..."

"Don't worry about it, boys, he's with me," I heard another man say. The voice was human, had some sort of English eccent too. I turned around to find a red haired man smiling. Tall, broad-shouldered, he could probably join an MMA competition.

"And who are you?" the other bird-man asked.

"Easy lads, my name's Jack Napier, I'm from C-Sec too."

The bird-men discussed among themselves for a moment. I glanced at the other human. He didn't look familiar in the least bit. But I'd probably be crazy if he did. This was a video game after all. "I see, well your friend here doesn't look very good, Napier. Look after him." And then they left.

The man spoke up after they were out of earshot. "Well, that was simple enough, isn't it, Grayson?"

"Who the fuck are you and how did you know my name?" I probably should've been thanking him, but whatever. He was just a video game character.

"Oh I'm more than just a video game character, Kovac, I assure you. And before you ask, no, I cannot read your mind. Not all the time, anyway. Now if you want to go back to your old life of arresting gun-crazed maniacs and defusing bombs, you're going to follow me."

And follow him, I did. We took what could only be the Mass Effect version of a car -which flew in air and had a hybrid of ceiling and suicide doors- to wherever he was taking me. I still couldn't believe that everything was a game, but the scenery was breathtakingly gorgeous, that was for sure. A very blue sky, colourful plants, a massive lake... We landed about half an hour later, at what I could only assume to be the front of an apartment building.

"Come on, Grayson, let's walk a little faster, shall we?" Napier brought me to an apartment on the third floor. It was sparsely furnished, there was only a couch and a small coffee table in the living room. "Do forgive me, the Council can only afford to pay so little after indulging in their own luxuries. Take a seat. Would you like some tea?"

"No, I don't want tea._ I need answers_."

"Loosen up a little pal. You'll get what you want. Why don't you sit down first?"

* * *

I spent the next few hours learning about the whole universe. The Krogan, Rachni, Asari, Batarians, Turians, Quarians, Protheans, Reapers, and even those 'blinking flashlights' called Geth. And then there was the First Contact War, the Skyllian Blitz and the Rachni Wars.

"I still don't get why you're telling me about all these made-up history of a world that doesn't exist."

"You don't know? Or do you simply not want to admit, Kovac? There's a perfectly good reason why the 'exit game' option isn't popping up, you know. And it's also the same reason why I exist," he said, taking a sip of tea.

"And what's that?"

"You're stuck in this game, and you'd better believe it. I'm a software created by your buddy Foster just in case things went south, _like right now_."

Something told me he wasn't kidding despite his flippant attitude. But I still didn't want to believe it.

"You're just a colourful pixel on a pretty life-like screen, that's all."

He chuckled. "Like it or not, Kovac, I'm here to help you. And you're going to need it if you wish to exit this game with your brain intact."

I smirked. "What do you think this is? Inception? That if I die here, I'll go to limbo and become a vegetable?"

"Hey, how'd you know? And what's 'Inception'?"

"It's- you know what? Never mind. And for the record, I still don't believe you."

He laughed again, but then his voice took to a more serious tone. "Stop denying, Kovac. If you don't believe me, you won't be sitting here talking to me."

There was no way to escape reality now, or maybe it would be more accurate to say 'virtual reality', but whatever. "Fine. How can I get out of here again?"

"You need to finish the game."

"That shouldn't be too hard. How long can it be? Twenty hours? I'll be back in no time."

"Hmph, you'd wish. It might just a couple of hours for you in the other world, but right here and right now, you're neither over there, nor are you Commander Shepard. Over here, you play by the the game's rules. Everything's in real time."

That was not good.

"So how long does it take exactly?" I asked.

"The game ends in 2186."

"So?"

"Right now, it's only 2183."

* * *

**A/N: So, what'd ya know? I actually managed to do this! And for the record, I am 1) not a SWAT tactical technician, 2) not a guy. My name is also not Grayson Kovac. Even if I were a guy, I'll never ever have the name 'Grayson'. Why? Because Grayson means 'son of a bailiff'.**

**Oh well. :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Oh hey, guys! How's it going? Can't believe that so many of you guys actually like this... well, poorly written crap. To be honest, I started this just so I can keep busy and calm myself down, because I'm practically hyperventilating everyday while waiting for my O level results to come out...**

**Please do point out any typos or missing words. Whenever my phone uploads files onto the site, some words are just removed for no apparent reason...**

**Dragonmith: What's 'The Butcher'? O.o **

* * *

I couldn't believe my ears.

"_Three years? Are you fucking kidding me? _"

Napier gulped down his tea. "You should be happy, lad, it's a good thing!"

"Good thing _my ass._ You want me to spend three years of my life inside a video game while my physical body rots on a God damn couch?"

"Trust me, Kovac. If you're smart enough, you'll think that three years ain't gonna be enough. You're going to need training, and training needs time. I hope you haven't forgotten that you're going to battle on a weekly basis."

"_What battle? _You didn't tell me anything about battle!"

He gave that stupid chuckle again. "Oops, must've slipped my mind. But you should've expected it, Kovac. This is after all, an action game. And you can't call a game an action game if there isn't any shooting, eh?"

"Well Mr. Emergency Software, just in case you've forgotten, Shepard's dead. And how the heck am I supposed to save the galaxy without any help? Say _'pretty please with a cherry on top_'?"

"That won't be an issue at all, actually. Because Shepard's coming back to life," he said with a smile.

"What the- you know what, Napier? Why don't you just tell me what's going to happen in the bloody game and I'll just end the whole thing right here and right now."

He gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Wish I could, Kovac, wish I could. But truth be told, I don't know what's going to happen except Shepard's going to get revived."

"What? Then how'd you tell me about the Reapers and mass destruction and whatever?!"

"Let's put it this way, alright? True, I am a failsafe program installed by your friend, but he didn't finish the job."

I looked at him incredulously. "What'd you mean, _'didn't finish the job' _?"

"Well, the supposed way this game was supposed to be played was to just _be_ Commander Shepard. But now you're obviously _not_ Shepard, however I'm still the same as before, meaning I only know what the Commander knows."

"Then how do you know Shepard's going to come back to life?!"

"Your friend played this game once, but he stopped short just after Shepard died and got revived. That's when I couldn't record any more, because he shut the game down afterwards. Besides, this is Mass Effect. Shepard's got to live, she has to. Otherwise this game will either never end, or you'll never get out with your brain in one piece."

"Wait, Shepard's a _'she'?_

"Heh, what'd you expect? Men ain't the dominant ones these days."

The bloody game just _had_ to have surprises at every turn.

"Listen up, mate," Napier said. "This game isn't as simple as it looks. It's more dangerous than anything you've ever experienced. Now go get some sleep. I'll come over in the morning." He stood up and walked towards the door. "The fridge's stocked if you're hungry."

"Wait a sec." He stopped. "Aren't you a software? Why do you have an apartment?"

He gave an arrogant laugh, something that went along the lines of _'you naive little boy'_. "You didn't really think that my name was Jack Napier, did you?" Then he transformed into somebody else to prove his point. This time, he had jet black hair, sea green eyes, and was of a smaller build, slightly slimmer, and a lot shorter, around five-feet-ten, give or take. He looked oddly familiar, like I'd seen him around somewhere.

And then, I realised with start that he had transformed himself into _me._

_Me. Grayson Kovac._

He gave me another one of his sickening smiles. "I can be anyone," Napier said, except this time, it was my voice coming out of his mouth. He even _spoke_ like me.

I felt my breath hitch. "What did you do with the real Napier?"

"I don't know, can't really remember. I think I threw him off a cliff."

"You threw him _off a cliff? You killed him? _" I felt anger rising. "You killed an innocent man? "

"Oh please, he was one Hell of a corrupt cop, he's better off to the galaxy dead."

My fingers curled into a fist. "He's still a living, breathing human being!"

"No, he's not," the software corrected., still smiling. "He's just a pixel and a bunch of numbers, a file, at best. _You, Kovac, you_ are the real human. Keeping you alive is my responsibility, and I'll do _anything_ to fulfill it. Goodnight, Kovac."

I watched as he transformed back to Napier and left the apartment. I slumped back down to the couch. I couldn't believe it. I actually got angry because of the 'death' of some random, fake video game character.

_This is just a game, Grayson. Everything's an illusion. The only thing that's real here is you._

* * *

I couldn't sleep that night. I ended up downing three bottles of beer, which tasted surprising life-like. I most probably dozed off on the couch, because the next time I opened my eyes, bright and eye-piercing sunlight was already blasting through the windows.

Without thinking, I said out loud, "God... What time is it?"

I jumped when a computerised voice replied, "It is 9.47 am, Saturday, November 16, 2183."

_Oh right, I'm still in this stupid game._

Stifling a yawn, I went to the bathroom and washed up. Thankfully, I managed to find fresh towels and a brand new toothbrush. I still felt uneasy living in a dead guy's apartment, as virtual as he was. I continued wearing the T-shirt and jeans though. I couldn't stand the thought of wearing the real Napier's clothes. They wouldn't fit properly anyway.

Afterwards, I headed to kitchen, which was furnished with an electric kitchen stove, something that looked vaguely like a microwave, a fridge, along with a very pretty coffee maker. The failsafe software certainly wasn't lying about the fridge. I could just stay here for a month and not starve to death. There was a packet of what was labelled as 'varren bacon', eggs, milk, orange juice, and several other stuff. Rummaging around the shelves also led to the discovery of a collection of canned meats and soups.

I made myself corned beef hash and a mug of good old coffee. Good grub always made me feel better. After breakfast, I'd thought of exploring the Mass Effect world for a bit, so I decided look a few things up on the extranet, or at least that was what I remembered Napier telling me.

Using the terminal was easy enough. It functioned just like how a normal computer would, except the orange holographic keyboard and screen would only pop up if you got close enough. The first thing I searched for was a picture of a varren, and I could feel my breakfast rising as soon as I saw it.

Christ, no wonder only the Krogan kept them as pets. They were both equally ugly. The varren looked like an overgrown, mutated dog with gills and disgusting bulging eyes.

Moving on, I decided to look up on Commander Shepard, allegedly the only person that could help me escape this world with my brain intact. Not much appeared on my screen, except for her full name -which was Berenike Lee Shepard- and that she was a graduate of the Systems Alliance's N7 Special Forces Programme and the galaxy's first Human Spectre.

_Interesting._

And I also learnt that Berenike meant 'bringer of victory'.

_Extra interesting. _

It was then that I heard the door open, and it was none other than phony Napier himself. In his hand was a duffel bag.

"Good morning, Kovac. I see you've made yourself comfortable here." I didn't answer. "Not in a very friendly mood, eh?" He threw me the bag. I opened it up, and found a few of those eccentric clothes and toiletries. "I went for a little late night shopping last night. These should be your size."

"How did you know my size?" I asked a little stupidly. Napier transformed into me again. "Oh." I was about to ask again if he even slept at all, and then I remembered he was a software.

Thank God I had shut my mouth fast in enough.

Napier walked over and took a syringe out of his pocket, still wrapped in its glorious plastic packaging. He removed the plastic, and pushed the plunger a little bit, like how they did it in the movies.

"Woah, what do you think you're doing?"

"Hey, just trust me, okay?"

He took my arm, and ungraciously jabbed the needle in. God, that fucking hurt. After it was done, I massaged my left forearm, and asked, "What the Hell was that?"

"Your omni-tool." I looked at him in confusion. "Stretch your arm." I complied, and a minute later, a holographic orange console appeared over my left forearm. "What I just injected you with was an implant. It's just like an iPhone, but much more useful and fanciful."

"Good, because I hate Apple products, especially iPhones."

"This is your personal micro-computer now," Napier explained. "You can send emails, text messages, play games, hack systems, basically your best friend in this galaxy."

_Cool._

I messed around with the mini keyboard on the omni-tool for a bit. The console was fascinating, to be honest. All I had to do was think, and it would disappear or reappear whenever I wanted.

"Come on, you'll have enough time to goof around later. Change your clothes. I'm bringing you somewhere else."

* * *

As usual, the journey to our destination was one with breathtaking scenery, except now I knew that the blue Citadel sky was artificial, the beatiful flowers were genetically engineered, and the lake had no fish.

That 'somewhere' turned out to be a shooting range. It didn't look much different from the ones back in the real world, except for a few high-tech stuff here and there.

I gave a low whistle, impressed. "What are we doing here?"

"To train you, what'd you think?"

"In case you've forgotten, I'm a SWAT tactical technician. I hack cameras, I collect intel, I diffuse bombs, and I _shoot guns._"

He laughed. "You'd be surprised, Kovac. The guns here are a lot more different to handle than you think."

And unfortunately, he was right. The pistols, for one, packed a lot more punch and recoil than of those that I've had handled. I spent a few hours learning about the different ammo mods, weapon attachments, types of guns, as well as adjusting to how the weapons would unfold or collapse at the touch of a button near the grip. Not all of them had the function, but most did. We spent the rest of the day firing all sorts of weapons. I performed best with the pistols and -surprisingly- sniper rifles.

I was never a crackshot, and was most familiar with shotguns back home. I guess the concentration mod helped out. The other weapons weren't to my taste, though. The shotguns here had way too much recoil, the submachine guns have had such little firepower I'd be better off hitting my enemies with a stick, and my hands just felt plain awkward with the assault rifles.

"Not bad, Kovac. Not bad at all."

The next month was a whirlwind. Everyday, Napier would pick me up to the shooting range to practice. If he wasn't, Napier would be coaching me on the guns, tech, and anything that I needed or wanted to know. Over time, I started to go out, walk along the Presidium Commons like any other ordinary civilian, and began to think of everyone I saw as real people, not pixels, not codes, not numbers. I got accustomed to seeing a Turian around every corner, or browsing along the same aisle at a store with a Salarian or an Asari.

_Maybe this place isn't so bad after all._

* * *

**A/N: Well, that's all, folks! Reviews are greatly appreciated! And don't be too surprised if you see a large drop in updating rate. I have another Heavy Rain fic to attend to, after all. If you guys have any questions whatsoever, I'd be happy to answer them. :)**

**PS: Grayson's views on Apple products do not represent mine, even though they're coincidentally the same. :P **

**PPS: If you're interested, you can follow me on twitter for unofficial, impromptu updates. Because this site removes any and all links, go to my bio for the link to my twitter and tumblr account.**

**PPS: If you guys are wondering why I chose Berenike for Shep's name, it's mostly because my real name (Bernice) was derived from it. The other part was because of it's meaning (victory bringer). ISN'T IT COOL? LOL. :D**

**And no... My middle name isn't Lee...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and support, guys! Means a lot to me!**

**Dragonmith: That story sounds really awesome. Damn. But I'm not going to read it, because I don't want it to affect my story. But thanks for the link!**

**Archer83: I won't call myself lucked out, because my mum chose this name due to its meaning... It was intentional. My dad however, **_**being a guy**_** (no offense), chose my younger sister's name just because he liked it (which is Cheryl). And it's meaning was 'little woman'. *facepalm* The good (or rather sad for my sister) thing is that our personalities are oddly similar to our name meanings... I've managed to scrape past exams unscathed without slacking or studying too much (yay) while my sister often gives in or others to the point where I want to kill her.**

**Your name is... interesting. Maybe you should get a job as a private investigator. :D **

**PS: If you ever have a son, don't name him Barrett too (apart from Grayson). It means 'warlike people'. **

* * *

It was a day just like any other. Having already developed a routine for the past month, I was getting ready for Napier to pick me up to the shooting range. He arrived, however, this time he was donning a rather expensive suit, and carried yet another duffel bag.

"What's the occasion?" I asked, taking a sip of coffee. He tossed me the bag. Inside was a suit similar to his. I arched an eyebrow.

"Wear this and pack your clothes. We're leaving."

"To where?"

"Illium," he said. "The ultimate place where anyone and everyone can do anything and everything. Perfect location for a little 'off the grid' training."

"And what might that training comprise of?"

There was a mischievious glint in his grey eyes. "Maybe a little driving, perhaps a couple of grenades... You know, the works..."

"Alright, just give me a minute."

* * *

Turned out there was a reason for the suits. Napier had booked first class tickets for our three-day journey. Aboard the commercial cruiser, we indulged in fine wine and top-notch delicacies, all in our very own suites, which was equipped with top-of-the-line amenities. Even the toilet seat was gold.

After the cruiser docked at Nos Astra's spaceport, Napier led me to a skycar waiting for us at the shuttle depot. I recognised the vehicle as a W6Z, which was basically Mass Effect's take on a Ferrari back home.

I frowned. "Napier had properties on Illium?"

The software replied, "You'd be surprised at how deep a corrupt officer's pockets go."

I didn't answer.

Napier brought us to a rather elegant hotel and bar nearby called 'Eternity'. After we'd settled down and washed up, we headed out again. Unlike the Citadel's rather calm and sleepy scenery, Nos Astra's was that of a major city back home, a metropolis that was bustling, bright and brimming with energy like Los Angeles or New York City. Skyscrapers that lit up like Christmas trees littered the skyline, and the traffic lanes were so packed, it was a wonder that no one crashed.

Napier landed at what I assumed to be a trading hub. "Welcome to Illium's busiest commercial hub where you can buy anything and everything," he said. We went around, browsing through the endless shops that ranged from luxury clothing to heavy duty weapons of mass destruction. We stopped at a kiosk called 'Nos Astra Sporting Goods', although I had no idea why a shop that allegedly sold sporting goods would have body armour and grenades among its catalogue.

After making a few purchases, we headed back to the hotel and turned in for the night. The next morning, Napier brought me to the outskirts of town after a heavy breakfast of eggs, bacon and sausages. One thing that took my breath away was how the planet's look changed between day and night. During the day, the lush green mountains dominated the view, with streaks of sunlight filtering in, most of them blocked by the gigantic skyscrapers.

"Don't believe that it's just as safe as the Citadel," Napier warned me. Illium was only habitable at the higher polar latitudes, with a surface temperature of 63 degrees celcius. Apart from that, drug dealers ran rampant, hiding behind the name of empty shell companies that hid their less-than-legal transactions from the rest of the galaxy.

"What are we doing here?" I asked as we landed.

"You'll see."

After we got out, Napier took out two footlockers he had stored at the backseat previously. The footlockers opened up automatically after Napier pressed a button. One contained a Black Widow sniper rifle attached with a concentration mod and extended barrel, as well as a Paladin heavy pistol with an upgraded magazine capacity along with a high caliber barrel.

The second footlocker housed a set of black armour with green highlights as well as bright green lights. And then I realised that this wasn't any random set of armour. Napier had carefully selected each and every piece. To be specific, it was a combination of: a chest plate from Serrice Council, shoulder plates from Rosenkov Materials, gauntlets from Kassa Fabrication, and leggings from Ariake Technologies. There was even a Kuwashii Visor to top it off.

Damn, he'd really put a lot of effort into it. It must've cost a bomb too.

"Woah... Thanks man, I appreciate it."

He smirked. "Don't thank me so fast yet. You'll be cursing me later when you're shooting Batarians and Geth." And then he opened a secret compartment in the first footlocker that I didn't realise. Inside was a assortment of different grenades. Incendiary, fragmentation, flashbangs... You name it, he had it.

Needless to say, we spent the rest of the day shooting and blowing up the whole place, except this time I was clad in the heavy armour. Running and gunning with the weight of metal on your body was a whole new experience, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. After all, I wore all sorts of vests and body armour during my job. The hard part was trying to get used to securing the metal plates over the wire mesh suit I had to wear over my body, and then efficiently storing or removing weapons from my back.

The next two weeks on Illium was a blur. Napier taught me how to forge my own unique omni-blade, as well as an omni-shield, which he said not many could do. My experience with tech as a tactical technician also proved useful when he taught me how to hack various systems and codes. We would spend hours searching for the best hacking software the galaxy had to offer - more often than not from shady vendors. To ensure that I would be ready for almost every and any situation, Napier decided to cash in on my ability to defuse bombs and coached me on how to deal with modern explosives. There wasn't much of a difference between bombs from both worlds, really, except for the mass effect fields that were pretty much integrated into everything in this universe.

The software even taught me how to drive, which was difficult at first, but I got the hang of it after a couple of tries. He even managed to get his hands on a fake ID for me.

"Good job, Kovac," Napier said one day, over dinner. "You're catching up fast. You'll be ready for real combat soon."

After he felt that I was sufficiently prepared, Napier and I went on a short stint of bounty hunting, chasing down small time dirtbags. Our first assignment was to eliminate a small group of mercenaries. At first everything went smoothly, and we had killed off most of them. Upon seeing the both of us, the sole surviving Batarian surrendered - _or so I thought_. I foolishly lowered my weapon, and that gave the Batarian an opportunity to pull the trigger twice with the gun in my direction. I fell back to ground as the force of the high-velocity rounds slammed into me. Thankfully, my shields absorbed most of the energy, so the bullets didn't penetrate my armour.

It was then that I truly understood the difference in combat between the real world and the Mass Effect universe. Back in my job, SWAT members were trained to suppress their knee jerk instincts and shoot only when absolutely necessary. Here, combat meant shooting all hostiles on sight.

I learnt from my mistakes, though. I never hesitated to shoot anyone with a gun trained at me ever again. I adapted. After all, that was what both my previous and current jobs demanded.

* * *

Before long, we were moving again, this time to Omega. The trip had no luxurious cruiser or bubbly champagne. Instead, it was a tattered small shuttle that smelled like Batarian brains and decomposing varren. Believe me when I say I know what I'm talking about.

After an agonising four days, we finally reached what Napier described as Hell on a rock. I found the description unfortunately apt. Dark, gritty alleys that smelled like piss and looked like shit, buildings that looked as if they were about to collapse any moment. Unlike the vibrant Illium or serene Citadel, Omega was truly Hell. Bandits and criminals strolled the streets freely, while civilians cowered in fear everyday, every moment. After settling down at a very rundown hotel -which was frankly a dark dingy apartment that smelled like a sewer- we rented a car and headed towards Afterlife.

Along the way, Napier told me, "Omega isn't really that different from Illium, security-wise. They're both places full of pirates and slave traders, except that one has a classy packaging while the other doesn't give a fuck."

I didn't say anything.

As we landed, I asked, "So what are we doing here, exactly?"

"I pulled a few strings, went through a couple of contacts, and got us a job."

"What job?"

"Saving Shepard."

* * *

**A/N: Well, that's it for today, folks! Don't think there'll be any more chapters coming out until Tuesday, during which I'll be updating Downpour. Ciao!**

**PS: Let me know about what you guys make of Uploaded so far. All critisism welcome!**

**And no, the W6Z doesn't exist... I made it up...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Howdy! How's your week so far? Getting really nervous... 2 more days to results. Fuck.**

**Archer83: Yes, they're saving Shepard, but not exactly her, if you know what I mean... Don't get your hopes up.**

**Dragonmith: I think you've misunderstood Napier. I hope this chapter clears your misgivings about him. Also, about that joke chapter you mentioned, don't you think that it's a little too shallow, lame, and childish?**

**As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated.**

* * *

"You know, I'd really _appreciate it _if you can run me up to speed about what we're going to do," I said as the both of us made our way towards Afterlife. Napier had a footlocker in his hands again.

"Relax, Grayson..." Napier replied. I hated it when he called me by my first name."You getting cold feet?"

"_No,_ I am _not_ getting cold feet. I just prefer to know what I'm up against before sending myself towards a group of trigger-happy scumbags." It was an occupational habit, I guess. Back on SWAT, every single intel we could get about the situation at hand was essential so that we wouldn't screw up and get the hostage killed or something.

All of a sudden, he transformed himself into a Batarian. I was about to ask him what was going on, but he simply put a hand on my right shoulder and we started moving on again.

A Batarian thug stopped us at Afterlife's entrance. "Get in line," he said, nodding towards a very long queue just beside us.

"It's fine," Napier said, in a perfect imitation of a typical Batarian. "Aria's expecting him."

The Batarian thug scrutinised us for a minute. "Alright then, go right in."

Once we were inside, I asked, "Who the heck is Aria?"

The software took the form of Napier again. "Her full name is Aria T'Loak, Asari, queen of the rock basically. The Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack all answer to her. She knows everything and anything that goes on this planet."

The nightclub was plain awful, to be honest. The deafening techno music, Asari strippers and their horrible pole-dancing, cheap moonshine that tasted like swill.

The perfect place for for hoodlums.

We walked with the terrible music booming in our ears for a couple of minutes before I said, "You know, I would've expected you to just blast your way through if that Batarian didn't let us in."

"And have all the mercs on the fucking rock chase us? Nah... No need to gain attention if you don't have to, especially on Omega. Besides, dumbfuck ain't worth a bullet." He then proceeded to say, "Getting a reputation on this rock ain't a good thing. You might as well just hold up a signboard that says '_shoot me_'."

Napier brought me to a deserted corner of the nightclub, and he set the footlocker down. "Suit up and get your gear. The ladder here leads up to a vantage point where you can pretty much see the whole of Afterlife." He sent me a couple of pictures via omni-tool. They were photos of an Asari and a reptile-looking man. "See these two? Asari and Drell. Their names are Liara T'Soni and Feron, respectively. You go up, get out your sniper rifle, and keep an eye on them. Protect them at any cost, you understand me?"

"How does that help us save Shepard?"

"_It will._"

"And what are you going to do?"

"What I need to."

* * *

I laid on my belly in the hard armour, Black Widow propped on the ledge, disruptor ammo mod activated, index finger curled around the trigger, breathing steady. If there were any hostiles, I would be able to take them down, barriers, shields and all. Reinforced armour would be a problem though, but an extra shot should suffice. I had already found T'Soni talking to an Elcor. The two aliens were talking rather agitatedly - as emotional as an Asari and Elcor can be, anyway. The Drell, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

_Come on, where are you..._

And then I noticed a hooded figure approach the Asari, and interrupted her conversation with the Elcor. I briefly considered shooting him, but I ultimately decided against it. I still trained my scope on him, though. There was no telling if he was friend or foe, but T'Loak looked relatively relieved to see him. It was the right choice in the end, because the hooded figure turned out to be Feron.

Then they started to head towards the exit.

_Shit._

I hurriedly got up and trailed them, rifle in hand. Thank God there was a route towards the exit as well. The duo stopped just outside the nightclub and began chatting again. This time, however, I knelt on one knee, because the railing here was far too high for me to to prop the rifle against while lying prone.

As the two aliens rambled between themselves, I noticed a group -a mixture of Humans, Turians, Batarians and one Krogan- wearing blue-and-white armour approach T'Soni and Feron.

_Blue Suns, _I thought to myself._ What are they doing here?_

Shotgun in hand, the Krogan -who was quite obviously the boss- strolled leisurely while twenty of his goons surrounded the duo.

I readied my weapon.

And then the big ugly alien started to talk. "Liara T'Soni," he started. "The Shadow Broker demands to know why you are looking for Shepard's body! She is dead! What more do you want with her?"

_The Shadow Broker? Who the heck is that?_

I was still contemplating if I should take action or not, when I sudden saw Napier run up to whole group, yelling, "BOMBS AWAY!" and toss three smoke grenades. Less than a second later, there was plenty of "Fuck me!", "Get them!" and "Damn it!". The mercs were all busy waving away the thick cloud of smoke, trying to get a visual on their two targets.

But not me_._

I took down five of them in quick succession. It took quite some time more than usual, but I scored all five headshots.

Damn, I was starting to get used to this.

The smoke started to clear out, so I picked up the pace. I started aiming for the torso instead so that I could spend less time aiming. My purpose was not to kill, but to paralyse and stun the mercs long enough for Napier to pick them off one by one with his pistol while Asari and Drell escaped from the scene.

The plan worked. Very soon, there were twenty corpses slumped on the bloody ground, all in their wonderful blue-and-white armour. I noticed a man and woman in black and white approach the two aliens, but I didn't shoot because they were unarmed. Napier was nowhere to be seen.

My omni-tool beeped. It was a message from Napier.

_Good job. You're clear to move._

There was a set of coordinates attached, so I just followed suit. The instructions led me to a shady spot on Omega, where I saw T'Soni, Feron, the same man and woman I saw just before, as well Napier engaged in a deep conversation. Now that I was in close proximity, I could see their features more clearly. The woman had raven hair, captivating blue eyes, and picture-perfect features that would've been absolutely stunning, if not for the fact that she also had a sort of murderous aura around her.

Something told me that I wouldn't like her very much.

As I got closer, the woman spotted me. Her body glowed blue -which meant she was a seriously dangerous biotic- and was probably about to fling me off into outer space until Napier intervened.

"Easy there, Miss Lawson. He's friendly," the software said. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet Grayson Kovac."

The woman immediately sized me up. "So you're the man Napier spoke so highly of? Only five of the twenty kills were headshots," she said with contempt. I offered her a hand anyway. She considered for a moment, but in the end felt that I was still worthy of a handshake. "Miranda Lawson," she said dryly, shaking my hand.

"Well, Miss Lawson, the most important thing is that I got the job done. Don't know about you, but I'd pick fast and efficient over pretty any day of the week."

She gave me a rather reluctant nod of agreement. "I can see why Napier picked you now. At least now I can be sure that Ceberus isn't paying you for nothing."

I grimaced.

Wasn't Cerberus a pro-Human terrorist group? Since when was I working for them?

I shot the software a look that said, '_what the Hell is this woman talking about? _'.

He ignored me.

"So it was you who helped us fight the Blue Suns?" the Asari, Liara T'Soni asked.

My gut instincts told me to play along. "Just doing my job."

The Drell ignored me, though. "I believe we have an appointment with the Illusive Man?"

"Yes," the Human male replied. "We have a shuttle waiting to take us to meet him." The man turned towards Napier. "Are you coming?"

He politely declined. Truth be told, I've had never seen him so respectful before ever since I'd known him. "I have a few loose ends to tie up with Kovac here."

The party left without another word, leaving Napier and I alone.

"Do you mind telling me _what the fuck_ is going on right now?" I said, almost shouting.

Napier held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Chill the fuck out, Kovac. Everything's fine. No need to shit your pants over nothing."

"_Fine?_ Since when was I under a terrorist organisation's payroll? _Did you plan this? _"

"Hey, look, it's necessary, alright? Do you have any idea what I had to do so that we'd land the job? Never mind, don't answer that. Anyway, we _need_ Ceberus to revive Shepard. Only _they_ have the ability to do that. Unless you want to stay here for the rest of your life, which I suspect is what you _don't want _to happen."

He got me there.

"_Fine._ Let's just say you're right. Then what about that Drell and Asari? What's the deal with them?"

"Liara T'Soni was part of the crew on the Normandy before Shepard died. Let's just say that she's got a not-so-secret crush on that lass, alright? She's hired Feron to collect intel on the location of Shepard's body. Ceberus is interested in reviving Shepard, so now they're going to meet with Ceberus' boss, the Illusive Man to work out a plan."

"What about the Shadow Broker? Who the Hell is he, exactly?" I asked.

He frowned. "How'd you hear about him?"

"Captain Krogan Loud Mouth told me that."

He laughed. "An information broker, except he knows everyone but no one knows him, not even the Illusive Man."

"So basically the Aria of the whole damn universe?"

"Pretty much. Normally, you wouldn't _-and shouldn't-_ give a fuck about what he does. But he's trying to sell Shepard's body to the Collectors, so it's _your_ problem now."

"Remind me who the Collectors are, again?"

"Douchebags that can get you trapped here forever."

Simple enough.

Then he jabbed a finger at me. "And _you_ are tasked with protecting her until T'Soni manages to get Shepard's body from the Shadow Broker."

"_Great,_" I deadpanned. "Just plain, fucking great."

* * *

**A/N: Just in case you still don't get it, Dragonmith, I'll explain it very clearly.**

**1) Having Napier force Kovac to kill an innocent person is meaningless. This scenario is only effective when you're trying to have a character that has second thoughts about killing when necessary to try to overcome his hesitation. Kovac worked as a SWAT member. He's no stranger to killing. **

**2) Even though Napier likes to talk bullshit, he doesn't waste his time or energy doing unnecessary stuff. His job is to protect Kovac, not kill just for the sake of it. Unless you can give me a good reason how a romantic interest affects Kovac's safety, I see no point in killing her.**

**As a general rule, I prefer my stories to make sense.**

**I have not given such far thought as to who will be Grayson's romantic interest, maybe he won't even have one. I'm not going to write something just for the sake of it. I'd rather forego romance than force myself to write something awful. I'd rather lose readers because of it than having them waste their time on reading something substandard.**

**I'm not saying that there'll be zero romance or zero humour in my story. It's just that I prefer to have them a in smaller, subtler form as compared to other stories.**

**I'm always open to suggestions, all anyone has to do is send me a message, whichever method you want, through twitter, tumblr, PM, reviews, etc.**

**- ConvictionSC.**


	5. Interlude: 1

**ATTENTION: I've just set up a poll regarding a LOVE INTEREST for Grayson. Visit my profile page to check it out. You can vote for up to THREE options!**

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys. I'm so sorry for the delay. As you know, my results came out on Thursday, and therefore the past few days involved a lot of debate with my parents on which school I should apply for, blah blah blah.**

**This is not a new chapter, because I didn't really have the time. And that there were a couple of you who were oddly very interested in a very uninteresting person like me, and asked me quite a few questions, so I decided to use this chapter to answer them. I forgot to actually jot down the names of the people that asked the questions, so you'll just have to look for them. Sorry about that!**

**As usual, if you guys have any questions (about me or Uploaded or anything possible), feel free to ask through any medium you like.**

* * *

**Q: Are you British? **

**A: I wish I was, but I'm not. I'm SINGAPOREAN. I spell words the British way, but that's only because we're taught like that over here. Singapore used to be a British colony, that's why.**

* * *

**Q: You're a girl. I've never seen a girl play before, not decently at least.**

**A: Well, mister, you better hope that you don't meet me online ever. The first game I'd ever played was Grand Theft Auto 3 when I was 7. I moved on to Medal Of Honour (forgot which installment was it) and Battlefield 2, and then SWAT 4 when I was 10 (it's still my favourite game as of now).**

**I've been gaming for the past ten years. I'm pretty sure I can own your ass.**

* * *

**Q: Seriously? GTA when you're 7? Stop lying. You're 17 now, and you're **_**still**_** too young to buy it legally.**

**A: My father and uncle were gamers. They were the ones that played it first. I simply 'borrowed' them. I was really close to my father and uncle when I was young, and I would do everything he did. Afterwards I ventured on my own into the gaming world, and the rest is history. As for now, let's just say I have middlemen to help me purchase them legally**

* * *

**Q: Why so many links to your twitter/tumblr/etc? Are you trying to become an internet celebrity?**

**A: No, I am not. Honestly, I don't really care. Dude, this is fanfiction, we're all just crazy fanboys/girls with slightly more imagination than the others, that's all. All I'm interested in, to be honest, is to just interact and know more about the people I meet online, who live half a globe away from me. I'm very curious about the different culture and lifestyles of the rest of the world population.**

* * *

**Q: I like Napier! Where did the inspiration for him come from?**

**A: Aww, you do? That's great! Napier is actually one of the main characters of my previous fics, Metamorphosis and Apotheosis. I didn't come up with his name and appearance though. Napier actually came from iBayne, aka author of the popular Galaxy At War: N7. I somehow preferred him over my then-main-character Colburn (weird, I know) and I thought that his couldn't-care-less attitude would fit the role of a semi-all-knowing asshole very well. The rest is history.**

* * *

**A: Are you going to postpone posting chapters if you don't get enough follows or reviews? I came across someone that did that. D:**

**Q: What?! No, of course not! I'll never do that! Unlike some people on this site, I write because I like it, not because I want some cheap form of recognition whatsoever. I'm sorry you met someone like that. Rest assured that'll never happen to you here! **

**And just in case some of you don't believe that I practise what I preach, take a look at Downpour. It's got only one follower, but I'm still updating it anyway!**

* * *

**Q: How do you look like in real life?**

**A: Take a look at my twitter profile picture.**

* * *

**And now, replies to a few reviews of chapter 4.**

**lolster13: Aren't you that person that read almost every one of my fics? You're still around? :O Glad you liked it.**

**ZOMG its Angie: Why thank you! One of my main goals when writing is to avoid cliches, which should be pretty evident by now. I hope future chapters don't disappoint you!**

**Archer83: Sorry, buddy... Let's just put it this way - she's already a major bitch when she's not having that 'time of the month'. *insert sad face here***

* * *

**Well, glad you guys are liking it (though I do not comprehend why). 26 follows? That's really great! **

**School will only resume around April, so that means I have to start looking for a job. In the meantime, I'll try my best to strike a balance between lazing and updating my fics. :P**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Howdy! Hope you guys didn't wait too long! **

**I had a rather enjoyable voice-chat session with one of you on Steam last night. Maybe the rest of you should do the same too! :D **

**great northern one: I'll wait for a couple more questions, set up another interlude, then answer yours. But I won't forget about your question, don't worry.**

**By the way, if any of you haven't voted, do it now! Remember, you have THREE votes!**

* * *

Napier and I met up with T'Soni and Feron again a couple of hours later, in one of the countless slums on Omega. The Asari looked especially glum, for some reason. I had a feeling she and the Drell had a very heated argument before we met up.

We took a rented car back to Afterlife.

T'Soni drove.

Napier rode shotgun, which sort of seemed like a foolish thing to do considering that the Asari was Mount Vesuvius on the verge of eruption.

After a couple of minutes, Napier apparently couldn't stand the pregnant silence anymore, so he decided to start a conversation.

"Soooo..." he began. "Remind me why we're going back to look for Aria again?"

"I never gave a reason," the Asari said coldly.

_Oh boy, this is not going to end well._

Her tone gave a whole new meaning to 'frosty'.

But she continued, "We're trying to track down Shepard's body, and I received intel that the transaction is going down on Omega. Aria knows everything that happens on the station. If we can get her to divulge the location..."

"But it won't be that simple," Feron said. "Aria has very tight security. Only a few have had the opportunity to see her face-to-face, and nine out of ten of them didn't leave in one piece."

The car suddenly jerked sharply to the left, narrowly missing the other vehicles.

_Shit, this blue woman's crazy._

"I never expected it to be easy, but we have to try the best we can. The galaxy will _never_ be able to survive without Shepard," T'Soni replied.

Napier wasn't kidding. The Asari was obviously _nuts_ about the Commander.

* * *

It was a good forty minutes before we reached the nightclub. By the time we got out of the car, my ears were starting to ring again from the tasteless, booming techno crap.

I wondered how Aria managed to stay sane, living here, noise pollution flooding her ears every single second.

And then I remembered that Asari didn't have ears.

_Maybe that's why._

The four of us made our way through the crowds of drunk good-for-nothings, trying to stay clear of the heavy smoke as much as possible. Every so often, a cheeky, self-important scumbag would saunter over, and oh-so charmingly regurgitate some century-old, overused pick-up line from one of those shitty _Blasto_ movies.

I did my best shoving them away, but the Asari scientist was evidently uncomfortable. There was only so much I could do without pulling out my pistol.

"You alright, doc?" I asked, only slightly audible, with the raging noise of the surroundings and all.

"I'm fine. I can handle myself."

After what seemed like eternal Hell, we finally reached Aria's 'throne room', as Napier had put it. The Drell was spot on. The place was a mini-fortress. There were at least twenty guards around the area, and probably another fifty stationed around every corner of Afterlife.

We'd be dead before we could even _think_ about pulling out our weapons.

A Batarian -one of Aria's lackeys- came along. "Well, well... what do we have here?"

"We need to talk to Aria," T'Soni said, voice even. "Let us in."

"No one meets Aria. Aria chooses who she wants to see." He stepped closer. "But I'm sure we can find a way a to compromise... How about a night with me, Blue?" he said suggestively. The Batarian inched closer again, his filthy hand raised, about to stroke the Asari's chin.

I was prepared to punch the bastard and quite possibly spark off a firefight when the scientist did something totally unexpected.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she yelled in disgust. A flick of her biotic-energy-encased hands flung the thug away and slammed him against the far wall, where a couple was making out. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as man and woman ran off, screaming hysterically. Being as chaotic as Omega was, nobody else seemed to care or even notice what was happening.

_Someone just got cockblocked tonight._

But in all seriousness, the Asari really _could_ handle herself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Napier flash a very amused smile. Feron, on the other hand, still had his poker face on. I was beginning to think that the Drell's face was permanently moulded into that expression.

Unfortunately, the spectacular display of biotics had caused the rest of them to raise their rifles at us. My hand instinctively went to my pistol. I studied the surroundings. I could probably activate my omni-shield in time, but considering that they were all over the place, I'd get shot from behind just the same.

My hand gripped the Paladin firmly. As far as I was concerned, there wasn't any other possible way to diffuse the situation.

And then, another one of Aria's goons entered the scene. This time, a Turian.

Unexpectedly, Feron spoke up. "Grizz," he said. "How nice of you to greet us in person."

I wasn't very good at reading Turian expressions, because they more or less looked the same. However, I did notice Grizz's mandibles twitch.

Hopefully in fear.

"Feron," the Turian acknowledged. His tone was rather... _uneasy._ "What brings you to this part of the galaxy?"

"Business," the Drell replied coolly. "My friends and I need to speak with Aria."

"You know that's not possible."

"Would you rather I tell her that you've been stealing from her cookie jar, Grizz?"

Nobody spoke. If not for the drunken cheers and absolutely awful music blasting in the background, the ambience would've been nothing less than sombre - in an extremely deadly way.

* * *

After eternity, the Turian finally gestured for the henchmen to lower their weapons. They looked among themselves, guns still raised half-heartedly. In a single, fluid move, Grizz pulled out his pistol and shot the nearest thug in the head, all without blinking.

Not even once.

"Lower your guns," he commanded.

This time, nobody challenged his order. No one was willing to have his appointment with Hades brought forward.

Reluctantly, he said, "Follow me."

The Turian led us upstairs, where we found an Asari dressed in some rather punk-looking white clothes with facial markings sitting on a couch, enjoying a private strip show.

I frowned, a little perturbed.

Not that I was some narrow-minded, homophobic asshole or anything, but I still wasn't used to seeing public displays of such relationships. Napier told me that Asari were actually mono-gender, which was perfectly fine by me.

Never mind.

The queen of Omega barely even glanced in our direction.

"Grizz," she said, tone hinting of displeasure, with a touch of lethality. "I didn't know we had visitors."

"They were... _adamant._.."

"It's about Shepard," T'Soni blurted out.

Aria studied us with amusement, her lips curled into a faint smirk.

"Grizz, take the dancer and leave us."

The Turian complied. Half a minute later, there were only five of us left in the room.

"So, Liara T'Soni, what's this thing about Shepard?"

"I know you have knowledge that the Blue Suns are selling Shepard's remains. I need to know where the transaction is taking place."

Aria gave an arrogant laugh. "What makes you think I'll tell you where it is? Why should I, anyway?"

"Maybe I should handle this conversation, Doctor T'Soni," Feron interrupted.

"Oh, is the Doctor unable to speak for herself?" Aria teased. "You even had to bring two clowns with you to meet me."

I was starting to get a little angry.

_Clowns? Seriously? Says the person that hides herself behind a fortress of lowlifes!_

But ultimately I decided to bite my tongue instead of snipping off hers. Besides, I probably wouldn't even get within a metre of her. She'd probably blast me off the station with her fancy purple energy.

"How about I make you a deal, T'Soni? You tell me why the Shadow Broker is after Shepard's body, and I'll tell you the location of the transaction in return."

"Then listen carefully, Aria! The Shadow Broker was hired by the Collectors to retrieve Shepard's body! If we don't stop the deal in time, you of all people should know what will happen to the whole galaxy!" the scientist said angrily.

For a split moment, the queen's eyes widened ever _so_ slightly.

I knew the expression.

It was shock.

Carefully concealed, but still not subtle enough to escape my eyes. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who noticed it. Feron gave a small grunt, as if satisfied.

Her tone softened a bit, like from _titanium-to-stone_ kind of soft.

"Doru District, at the old mining plant. I'd double my pace if I were you."

Immediately, T'Soni dashed out of the room, leaving the three of us right behind her, trying to catch up. I'd never seen an Asari -or even _anyone,_ in fact- run so fast.

And then I found myself in an odd situation - six of Aria's goons were running alongside us.

_What?_

"Aria sent us..." a Turian explained as he panted. "Help you..."

_Now this is interesting._

* * *

**A/N: Well I spent a couple of hours on this! Just a note, I've never ever read ME: Redemption. My only source of information about it is the summary on the ME wiki. Therefore, there'll probably be quite a few discrepancies here and there.**

**All reviews appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry about the long hiatus. So tired out by working life. That said, the sushi and pizza shops nearby the office is AWESOME.**

**There is nothing more badass on this planet than a female archer/sniper. Raise your hand if you agree!**

**PS: Does anyone also feel that the newest Devil May Cry is like a darker, grittier version of Lollipop Chainsaw on steroids? Raise your other hand if you agree too!**

**I'm really really sorry if this chapter turns out to be disappointing! It's hard to kind of concentrate and think of something from scratch when you're tired after a long day at the office!**

**All reviews greatly appreciated!**

* * *

_Hell hath no fury like a desperate Liara T'Soni._

That was the lesson I'd learnt from the twenty-minute roller-coaster ride to Doru District. The two cars of Aria's goons were left in the dust in less than a minute. Our car was weaving in and out of traffic haphazardly, with the too-often sharp turns threatening to have my semi-digested dinner revisit my mouth again.

_Fuck._

The thought alone was gross. I mentally saluted the universe's marines.

How in God's name could they possibly stand all those space-faring, zero-gravity practices without throwing up their guts?

As usual, Feron had his poker face plastered on. But Napier, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the ride. He was chuckling loudly.

"Woohoo! Can't get this much excitement watching God damn _Blasto_ eh?"

_Idiot._

"Hey, doc..." I said, fingers clutching tightly to my seat. "You mind taking it easy on the accelerator?"

"Any slower and we'll lose Shepard forever!"

As if to prove the Asari's point, the car swerved towards the right again. My gloved fingers literally dug into my seat so that I wouldn't slide down and crush the Drell, who -speaking of which- was meditating.

_Ass._

"Yeah, but it won't do the galaxy any good either if we die in a car crash!"

That seemed to calm her down, because the vehicle slowed down considerably. It wasn't by any means slow, but at least now I could feel my stomach's contents returning to its rightful place.

Amidst the blurring red lights and gritty buildings, I could see the old mining plant. Saying that the plant was _huge_ would be a gross understatement. As far as I could tell, it was connected to a now-defunct spaceport via a covered sky-bridge.

The perfect place for a convenient pick-up-and-leave.

As the car landed, I already had a hunch that we weren't in a good position. We were in an isolated area of Omega. We could blow up the whole area without anyone noticing. Even if they did, the people would be too afraid to die to care about it.

I was starting to sweat as soon as we got out of the car. The warm, humid air of the mining plant was a stark contrast to the air-conditioned interior of the vehicle.

The place looked like shit and smelled like piss - not unlike the rest of the rock really, _but worse._

I was starting to terribly miss the Citadel.

"What now?" I asked, scanning the area.

The whole area was dark, the few working lights were flickering unsteadily, causing my vision to alternate between low visibility and total darkness. Walls were all covered in dirt and rust, the ground littered with rubbish and slime. Rats and other alien rests scuttled around as they detected the our foreign presence.

Hell within Hell, they said.

"The plant has been shut down for decades, by right there shouldn't be anyone else but us and the Blue Suns," Napier said. "You see any movement, you shoot first and ask questions later, got it?"

"I agree," T'Soni said, pulling out her Tempest. "We cannot afford to be delayed by anyone or anything than we already have been."

I frowned. "What if it's a civilian?"

"Any civilian that lurks around a shithole like this can't be any saint, eh?"

"I object," Feron said, unexpectedly. "Opening fire will attract unwanted attention. We must not alert the Blue Suns of our presence."

T'Soni walked towards the Drell until their faces were mere inches apart. "_Nothing_ will stand in my way from saving Shepard."

* * *

And on that happy note, we began our search for Shepard. We walked in silence towards the spaceport, where the Blue Suns were most likely to be at.

It was tough, trying to make our way as quiet as possible, with the faulty lamps as our only light source. Damned Feron had forbidden us to turn on our flashlights.

Thank God for the night-vision mode of my visor. Still, it was kind of awkward walking with half your vision in green, and being partially blind in the other.

_Stupid Drell, maybe we should've-_

A sudden _clang_ caused all of us to freeze.

Nobody spoke, or even dared to exhale for fear of the mercs being nearby.

I waited for a good minute before I dared myself to ask softly, "_What the Hell _was that?"

"Oops, sorry," Napier said in an equally harsh whisper, "I think that was me."

"What the fuck do you mean _you think _that was you?!"

"Hey, I can barely see anything in here, okay?!"

"Silence!" Feron ordered. "Even if they didn't hear it previously, they will _now_ if you two continue this nonsense!"

I kept my mouth shut. As much as I hated to admit it, the Drell was right. We probably would've been better off announcing our presence through a loudspeaker.

After another three minutes of trying not to stumble in the dark, we arrived at the entrance of the skybridge. There were two mercs stationed just a few metres ahead, keeping a lookout for any unwanted visitors.

Napier and I nodded at each other. "_Wait here,_" I whispered to T'Soni and from as we activated our invisibility cloaks. Treading as lightly as possible, we approached the duo slowly, bodies hunched over in a crouching position. In unspoken unison, we activated our omni-blades and buried them into the chests of our respective targets. Hooking my left arm over the mercenary's neck, I dragged the mercenary's heavy, lifeless body to a dark corner nearby, hidden by the shadows. Napier dragged his to a spot behind a stack of crates.

"_Clear,_" I whispered into the comm. "_You're free to move up._"

Asari and Drell approached slowly from cover to cover, and finally settled behind a large metal crate. We all remained silent just as a group of mercs came into sight about fifty metres away. First, there was the tallest Salarian that I've had ever seen, and another five or so Batarians and Turians.

Feron's calm demeanour seemed to break for a split second as soon as he saw them. His eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and fear.

He muttered something in his native language, which I could only assume to be something along the lines of _'shit'._

"What's wrong?" I asked, frowning.

"It's Tazzik," he stated simply. His voice was still emotionless for the most part, but I could sense a little uncertainty. "The Shadow Broker's go-to man if he wants guaranteed results. And Tazzik _always_ delivers."

Well ain't that a nasty surprise.

In the distance, a Batarian gestured for his two underlings to carry forward what looked like a worse-for-wear stasis pod.

Jesus, the pod looked like a fourth-hand coffin. If Shepard's body was inside...

To my left, I suddenly saw T'Soni covered in blue energy.

"_Shepard's in there,_" she said surely. "She's in there. We have to take action _now_."

"_Are you insane?_" the Drell asked in a harsh whisper. "The only thing we will get if we barge in there straight away _is death!_"

The Asari's biotics glowed brighter.

She grabbed Feron by the collar.

"I am _so_ close to saving the Commander," she hissed angrily. "I will _not_ let a coward stand in my way from rescuing her!"

_Fuck._

The way the Doc was glowing, we were about as obvious to Tazzik and his men as Times Square on New Year's Eve.

I quickly pried T'Soni's hands off the Drell.

"Hey, Doc," I said. "I don't really care if you want to flay Mr. Depressing alive with your mind, but now is _not the time_. The way you're glowing, we might as well shout out to them that we're here!"

Thankfully, she listened to me and stopped flaring her biotics.

But not before glaring hard at me for a good 30 seconds.

_Why is it so difficult to be the rational one?_

"_Fine,_" she said. "But I am not letting him out of my sight." She gave Feron a cold hard look. "There is no telling if he is _still_ working for the Shadow Broker."

Despite everything, the Drell still had his poker face plastered on.

Well, I'd be damned if he wasn't really a cyborg sent by the Shadow Broker himself to stab us in the back.

"Well, the million dollar question remains," Napier added. "How the fuck do we secure the pod?"

Feron pointed in the direction of a few old defense guns not too far away.

_Oh boy._

* * *

**A/N: I cannot believe that some of you actually don't believe that I'm a girl. I hope the new profile picture settles your doubts!**

**And if you think that I look like **_**twelve**_** instead of **_**seventeen,**_** you're not the first, and won't be the last to think that way.**

**PS: While I do sincerely appreciate the praise some of you have been giving to me and Uploaded, I'd appreciate it **_**even more**_** if you guys could give me any criticism so that I can improve on my writing.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait. It's been busy, with Chinese New Year preparations, trying to revive my blogging habit, and work, and blah blah blah. **

**Oh, and is anyone buying The Last Of Us? Because I am. Ellie rocks.**

**Kenegi: He doesn't have a helmet. He wears a Kuwashii visor, remember? Besides, even if the suit has a cooling system, soldiers will still sweat running with heavy armour on. Try running with a **_**two**_** ten pound bags for 2 miles in an air-conditioned room within seven minutes... You'll sweat, I assure you...**

**I want to apologise in advance if the writing in this chapter seems lazily written/substandard. I was struggling a lot.**

**All reviews are greatly appreciated!**

* * *

"So we'll just waltz right in there and just shoot everything in sight?" I asked. "Isn't that a little too dramatic?"

"Hey, if it clears out Mr. Buff and gang, I don't see why the Hell not," Napier said.

"Yeah, but what if we shoot the pod by accident?!"

"I agree with Operative Kovac. Nothing must happen to Shepard."

"I will take charge of the defense guns. I can take down that gunship," Feron suggested.

T'Soni immediately objected, thankfully in a non-violent manner. "No! I do not trust you!"

"This is _not_ the time for paranoia, Doctor. Do you want to save Commander Shepard or _not?_ " the Drell said sternly.

That shut her up.

"_Fine._ But I am not letting you out of my sight. For all we know, you might still working for the Shadow Broker."

The Drell merely grunted. "Alright, listen carefully. I will head for the cannons and stop the ship from leaving. Napier, Doctor, the both of you will distract the mercenaries with gunfire and biotics. Kovac, you're smaller in size, so you'll cloak yourself and secure the pod."

We all nodded in agreement.

"Okay, let's dance," Napier said.

* * *

It was supposed to be simple, really. A loud distraction, massive destruction, and an invisible thief. But _no,_ the bloody game just _had_ to complicate things for me. I had barely gotten within forty metres when an ear-piercing alarm suddenly blasted through the air, threatening to burst my ear drums.

_Pressure sensors. _

I stepped on a fucking _pressure sensor._

If my goal wasn't to stay alive, I would've shot myself in the head for making such a stupid mistake. Despite all that high-tech invisibility cloak and whatnot, I exposed myself with such a _primitive device_ - relatively speaking, of course.

Before I knew it, gunfire was everywhere, a couple of rounds narrowly missing me by less than an inch and embedding themselves into the metal crates not too far away. I ran for the nearest cover I saw, but not before a stray round found my leg. My right thigh immediately gave way mid-stride, and I fell onto the cold, dirty floor.

Hard.

The most immediate pain my brain registered wasn't in my leg, but on my _face_. My shields and armour took the shot for me so the bullet didn't penetrate, but the impact was so hard it still made my leg cave in. Unfortunately, I had fallen face-first, so now I had both a bruised leg _and_ a broken nose.

I started to taste a mixture of salt and iron.

Shit.

The pain made it hard to concentrate, but I still managed to crawl towards cover without getting shot at _again._

Nothing like the fear of death to give you an adrenaline rush.

Another bullet whizzed by, this time burying itself into the glass window just slightly above my head that was too close for comfort.

I didn't dare peek out of cover. My cloak was long deactivated, and the visor wouldn't protect me from a lucky headshot.

I was about to scream into my comm asking the other three _what the heck _were they doing, when I suddenly heard T'Soni shout,

"Tazzik's getting away with the pod! I'm going after them!"

True enough, the unmistakable sound of active biotic energy instantly followed, accompanied with even more bursts of bullets, as well as a couple of mercs screaming.

I tried to do my part by providing suppressive fire, but the pain in my nose was preventing me from doing a very good job of it.

"Hey, Frogman!" I heard Napier shout. "We could use a little help stopping that gunship!"

The response was an overwhelming explosion, with flying slivers of wood and metal, which unfortunately, _didn't_ come from said gunship, but rather, the pile of crates _behind it._

"_Oh, I'll take care of the guns,_ he said!" Napier bellowed not-so-subtly.

I heard a growl of anxiety and frustration from the Asari, who started to simply run after Tazzik, who had the pod with him.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I shouted as I took down a Turian."Get back here!"

She ignored me, and continued on her insane chase. Napier and I managed to take care of anyone who had their gun pointed at the scientist.

My vision was starting blur, but I could still see Tazzik - who had just climbed aboard his gunship- unholster a rather menacing-looking contraption from his back, which I realised was a grenade launcher.

As the Salarian aimed the weapon and squeezed the trigger, I thought,

_Fuck, she's going to die. _

Which meant that no one would be able to rescue Shepard, and I would die as a very pretty polygon in a screwed up world full of ugly aliens.

Thankfully, Feron miraculously appeared out of nowhere and knocked her aside, successfully preventing T'Soni from becoming blue, bloody confetti.

Yuck.

As Napier sent the last breathing merc on his way to Hades, the rest of us watched helplessly as Tazzik's ship flew off, bringing Shepard's body along with it.

So much for a rescue operation.

_And my return to normal life._

As I climbed back to my feet and slowly limped towards them, I saw T'Soni serve Feron a _brutal_ biotic falcon punch, then biotically slam him against the nearest wall.

"You're still working for the Shadow Broker, aren't you!" she spat out angrily. "You deliberately missed the ship so Tazzik could escape with Shepard!"

Unfazed, the Drell simply got up again, shrugging off the quite possibly bone-breaking effects of the slam as if it was just a stiff shoulder.

"In the eyes of the Broker," he said coolly, dusting off the collar of his coat. "I have never stopped working for him. We can take advantage of that. We'll use my ship and follow Tazzik all the way. We'll stop him in time. Shepard will never fall into the hands of the Collectors."

The Asari's anger seemed to dissipate, her chest heaving less heavily, the glow of her biotics getting fainter.

"Let's go," she said curtly, "We have no time to lose."

And with that, Asari and Drell walked briskly side-by-side, totally ignoring Napier and I.

"Gee, thanks for your concern, _I'm fine..._" I muttered under my breath, following them, half limping.

"Ouch!" Napier exclaimed as he joined me. "Busted your nose, huh?"

"_You don't say._"

"Ooh, touchy... Just as well. Now you've got a good reason to go for plastic surgery, anyway. I've always wanted to tell you that you looked ugly."

I glared at him.

"But your hair still looks great though."

"Fuck you."

* * *

**A/N: Well, that's all, folks! I'll try to get the next chapter up by the weekend because I know you guys have been waiting pretty long for this, in comparison to the almost daily updates before. I'm so, so sorry about that! Forgive me. D:**

**Meanwhile, to all my Chinese readers, happy CNY!**

**恭喜发财****,****万事如意****!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Woohoo! Brand new laptop! Thought I could finally play all my games in maximum quality after spending _two thousand dollars_ on this thing, but _no,_ they just _had to_ pre-install Windows 8 in it. Damn it!**

**And yes, it's almost two months already? God, I'm so sorry about that, guys. Marketing takes up a lot of my energy. That said, I hope this rather long update helps to make up for a bit of the long wait. D:**

**And while I was absent, there were a couple more fantastic readers that joined this little story of ours. Almost 40? Wow! Thank you guys so much for making this possible! I love you guys! :)**

**- ConvictionSC**

* * *

Imagine this:

Two men in very bulky armour, one of them much larger than the average joe, and the other with a swollen, bleeding nose. Then add a rather unfriendly frog-man to the equation, as well as a violent, blue-skinned woman with tentacles on her head instead of hair. Now picture _all of them_ trying to fit inside a very, _very_ small room while trying not to suffocate each other.

And _yes_, just in case you were wondering, the above description was _us_, inside Feron's crappy ship, which was in reality just a flying machine the size of a walk-in-wardrobe. And there was only one damn chair. The Drell's horrible flying skills and my nose injury weren't helping, either.

"For the love of God, can't you get a bigger ship?!" I said in exasperation. "Or at least install a couple more chairs in here, damn it!"

"I always travel alone. The space in this ship is more than enough for me, and I only require one chair."

I looked around for an ice pick.

There wasn't one.

Shame.

I would've enjoyed stabbing him in the brain with the thing.

"Damn it, I feel like a turtle in a snail shell!" Napier complained. He wormed around, trying to find the_ least uncomfortable_ spot, because there really wasn't any comfortable position in the joke-of-a-ship we were in, except for the Drell's 'throne', which was most unfortunately occupied by the frog-man himself.

"Shut it! You're occupying the most space out of all of us!"

"Where are we heading?" T'Soni asked, unfazed by the squeezing and and jerking. She stared straight ahead at the large console, fingers clutching tight at the sides of Feron's seat to stablise herself.

"Alington. It is the only planet in this sector that the Shadow Broker uses for transport." Feron's fingers flew over the glowing orange keyboard. "Prepare yourselves," he warned. "We are approaching the mass relay in three... two... one!"

The whole ship rattled violently as blue energy encased it, then propelled the space vehicle towards the other end of the galaxy.

"Jesus, are you sure this piece of scrap metal won't fall apart?!"

I suddenly wished that I'd chosen one of those heavy helmets instead of the puny visor that I was currently wearing. A strained neck and shoulders sure beat the Hell out of asphyxiation and exposure to vacumn.

"We will be fine," Feron replied coolly. As if to prove him wrong, the ship shook violently again, causing the three of us to stumble and wobble. Napier briefly lost his footing, and accidentally slammed against. I, in turn, unintentionally sent T'Soni falling against the walls of the ship.

"Christ, Napier!"

The ship did a 360 degree flip as if for good measure, then finally stopped trembling, though our hands were still vibrating like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

I tried taking a few deep breaths.

_Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._

It wasn't working, sadly.

"Guys, I think I'm gonna hurl."

"I don't mind if you hurl on_ him_," Napier said rather happily, indicating Feron.

"I want to hurl on _both of you_."

The software started to whine like an indignant little kid who had his lollipop stolen until T'Soni cut him off with a "Oh, Goddess..."

"Is that... is that the Shadow Broker's base?" she asked, breath slightly quivering.

I looked out of the cockpit window...

Only to find a_ very unimpressive_ light-brownish planet that was ten times smaller than Earth. I turned my gaze back to the Asari. The look of astonishment was still plastered over her sharp features.

"Hey, Doc, don't you think you're a little over-reacting for such a small, brown planet?" I asked, bewildered.

"You do not understand the gravity of the situation," T'Soni replied quite agitatedly. "This is the Shadow Broker we're talking about! No one has come anyway near to tracking any of his lieutenants, let alone his base. _This _could be it!"

Napier started to speak but Feron interrupted him with a "Take caution!"

Without warning, the Drell did a 360 degree flip with the small ship, sending all of us tumbling around like clothes in a washing machine. My body came into contact with the ceiling like a meteor crashing into Earth. T'Soni's head banged a little to loudly against the control panel. Napier was, well, rolling around like a capsized turtle. The interior of the tiny ship was like a game of Human -and alien- bumper cars gone wrong.

I must've hit my nose again, because my mouth found the metallic, saline taste of blood once more.

Through more crashing, bumping and cussing, my hand somehow found the artificial gravity controls and I promptly shut it off. All tumbling stopped, and we suddenly found ourselves floating, our heads spinning like a Frisbee on steroids.

Except for Feron, of course, who was naturally still glued to his seat by mass-effect-fields-powered seatbelts, performing even more insane stunts, now that he knew that we weren't going to get bruised anymore than we've already had.

I gripped tightly onto a random structure on the walls, trying to steady myself. After the tsunami in my head subsided enough for me to see clearly, the first things I noticed were three large, blinking blips on a holographic screen to the side. And they were heading straight for that tiny green dot in the middle.

And then I realised that tiny green dot was _us._

_Oh crap_.

Napier recovered the fastest, apparently (maybe because he wasn't even in pain or confusion like us organics), as he immediately floated towards the ladar -floating turtle style- and started typing furiously on the console.

"Fuck, we've got sentries on our tail!"

"I've noticed," Feron answered coolly. The ship turned sharply to the left. This time, however, we were floating safely instead of being thrown around like rag dolls.

Thank God.

T'Soni and I watched on as Drell and software worked in tandem. The first sentry ship was shredded into strips of scrap metal as the laser beams from our ship's guns tore through it. Feron steered the ship into yet another 360 degree flip and managed to position it right behind another sentry ship, leaving Napier free to fire easily. Despite the ship's armaments leaving much to be desired, it proved itself to be sufficiently powerful as it penetrated the sentry ship and left only a flaming ball of fire in its position. Needless to say, of the third one met its doom not long after. Everyone deemed it clear to move on, and thus Feron worked our way to finally landing on Alingon.

"Well, wasn't that a_ splendid_ welcoming party the Broker kindly gave us," Napier said as we touched down at the Shadow Broker's allegedly top-secret facility.

_Allegedly._

"Shut up, floating turtle."

"Hey, don't you call me that!"

"Silence, both of you!" Feron snapped. "The Broker already knows we're here!"

"No shit, Sherlock. Do you still remember the crazy shit you put us through just now?"

"It was necessary to keep us alive!"

"Enough!" T'Soni cut in. "I don't care what issues all of you have with one another! We are here to save Shepard. Leave your disputes for later!" She continued fumbling with her Omni-tool. "Goddess, why can't my comms get through?"

"Alingon has a natural electromagnetic shroud that blocks all extra-planetary communications. Only the Broker has the technology necessary to break through it, so all agents have to report him in person at this facility," Feron explained. "This is also why they knew we were coming, because our ship was not warranted."

"Well... shit," Napier cursed. "So what'd we do now?"

"We stick to the plan," Feron said.

"_What plan?_" I asked.

"I will go in the facility, acting as if I am still on the Broker's side, and present Dr. T'Soni as my captive and tribute to him."

"Wait, then what about _us?_"

The Drell looked at us blankly.

"Hold your horses, buddy. There ain't no way in Hell that I'm sitting this one out!" Napier said angrily.

"The facility has thermal sensors, there is no way the both of you can sneak past the guards undetected, even with your tactical cloaks on."

"Well, that certainly won't be a problem," the software said with a smirk. "I'm wearing Terminus Armour. Cutting edge tech, my suit can transfer all body heat and dissisipate it into the ground below my feet."

I'd bet a hundred credits that the Terminus Amour was just bullshit. He was a software, he didn't have body heat.

And then that left only _me_ without a way to enter the facility.

Well, as Napier put it...

_Shit._

"No, there _is_ a way he can come in with us," T'Soni suddenly said. "The ventilation ducts! He can get through the ducts!"

The Drell immediately objected. "The ducts in the facility are too complicated, too many dead ends and turns. He could get lost in there until he dies of thirst."

"I can do this," I said. "I'm not as heavy, I'm smaller in size, I make less noise, and I can navigate well. All you have to do is give me the schematics. _I can do this,_" I repeated.

There was a minute of silence.

The Drell relented.

"Fine, but the consequences are yours to deal with."

"Believe me, you have no idea how many times I've heard that line."

* * *

The vents were hot, stuffy, dark, gritty, and downright horrible.

I was starting to regret my decision of persuading Feron that I was more than capable of climbing inside of vents. Sure, I'd climbed a couple of vents when I was in SWAT, but those were relatively larger and slightly cooler.

These were just plain nasty.

The idea of staying in the ship was sounding better and better by the second.

_God, can this day get any worse?_

_Yes,_ I imagined Him answering._ I'll show you how_.

* * *

I laid on my belly and watched as Feron smooth-talked his way through two Turian guards.

"Feron," one of them said warily. "What are you doing here? You're not on the list."

"Ah, Nurel, good to see you. You too, Tevin." the Drell replied.

Sadly, the Turians weren't biting.

"Why are you here, Feron? And who is this Asari?" Tevin questioned. He wasn't in a very friendly mood, apparently.

"Special business. The Broker is..._ expecting us_. We have priority clearance."

"Prove it."

"I don't have to. Unless you are questioning the authority and credibility of the Shadow Broker..."

Tevin and Nurel looked at each other.

They were beginning to doubt themselves.

Good.

Feron continued his ruse. "There is only one reason why I am able to stand here calmly with my present for the Broker - _because I was given the liberty to do so_. Do you really want me to take this issue to the Broker during our chat later on?"

It was good ten seconds before Nurel opened his mouth.

"Enter."

Through the gaps, I saw Feron drag a bound T'Soni towards the inner room. Napier was most probably somewhere close by.

I was about to make another right turn to follow them, when I realised that there _was no right turn_. Only a dead end. I brought up my Omni-tool, and the map clearly showed that there was a clear path on my right.

I muttered a curse. "Damn it, Feron!" I said in a harsh, agitated whisper. "How old are these schematics?"

"A few years old, why?"

"Because my path's blocked and I can't look at these schematics you gave me without second-guessing their reliability!"

"Fuck," Napier swore. "Any other routes you can take?"

I scrolled through my omni-tool. "There's one, but it's in the opposite direction, and it branches out into almost every and any direction. The whole thing's like a sick maze on steroids."

I wiped more perspiration off my forehead.

God, I was sweating buckets.

Yet another reason why I should've chosen the damn helmet over the visor. I'd do anything for a little a/c right about now.

"Maybe you should head back to the ship," Napier suggested.

"Over your dead body."

"It's either that, or you try to make your way through miles of hot, stuffy, cramped ventilation ducts while trying to not get lost or die of thirst."

"I can do this," I insisted. "I just need the right directions."

"Which you _don't have_. Your stats are _through the roof_, Kovac. If you pass out, no one's going to be able to get you out of there breathing. But if you wanna act like an idiot and die, it's your call."

I stayed silent, choosing to focus on my breathing instead. It was then, that I realised that Napier was doing his best to act as if he wasn't my babysitter -even though he really was- and try to get me to back down before I did anything stupid that would cost me my opportunity to return to the real world.

And so I did the sensible thing - I listened.

"Fine, but try not to screw up without me."

* * *

Excellent.

Now that the human had gotten his ass someplace safe, Napier could finally get the job done without having to worry about it.

He smirked to himself as he walked past directly in front of a Volus completely undetected.

He had only told the other three the partial truth. Yes, he was invisible to both visual and thermal scanners. But what they didn't know, was that Napier was invisible to every possible sensor, because the software had made himself disappear completely. He was nothing but a voice, a voice only audible to T'Soni, Feron and Kovac. He could sing the Russian national anthem to them without getting heard by the rest of the base.

And the incident on Feron's ship, the way he rolled like a turtle, that was intentional. First, the ever brilliant Dr. T'Soni would've figured that he wasn't organic if he did anything different, and Feron definitely would've caught on to the fact that something was amiss about him.

And the other reason why he decided to act human and spin around like the other two - he liked trying to be organic. Being a God that could make himself disappear and fly around was no fun - not after awhile, anyway. The notion of being helpless, the idea of things happening_ to him_, instead of _making things happen_, was fresh, mysterious, and beyond entertaining.

Of course, he wasn't going to tell anyone that, not even Kovac. Some secrets were just better kept unrevealed.

"I wish I could kill him right now!" Napier heard T'Soni whisper as they walked past another Volus, this time leading a Collector.

_They must be going to collect Shepard's body. _

They had to be.

"Do not be rash," Feron cautioned. "Let them lead Shepard's body to us,_ then_ you can do what you do best."

"I'm with the Drell on this one," Napier said.

And so the trio continued stalking Volus and Collector.

"And the thought that I used to think the Shadow Broker was a neutral man..." Feron lamented. "I was so very wrong."

"Now isn't really the time for reflections, Feron," T'Soni said.

* * *

They followed the Volus and Collector into a rather shady-looking room which appeared to be situated right in the middle of the whole facility.

"This room is the source of all information of the facility..." Feron noted.

_Interesting._

They took roughly seven steps before T'Soni and Feron stopped in their tracks.

"Goddess..."

Because right in front of them, was a shrouded figure.

"Welcome, I am the man you have been looking for. _I am the Shadow Broker_."

* * *

**A/N: Well, I hope this is long enough for you guys! Chapter 10 will be coming right up after this! I promise! And if you guys have noticed some rather major differences in dialogue/events as compared to _ME: Redemption_, that's because I've never actually read _Redemption_ before. Everything in Uploaded comes from my brain, using the Mass Effect Wikia content as guidelines and references only.**

**My writing in this chapter may come off as substandard, because I haven't written for almost 2 months. So apologies for that. **

**Please remember to rate, review and subscribe!**

**See ya soon!**


	10. I'M BACK, PEOPLE!

**A/N: Oh look, it's been 3 months... OOPS. Anyway, now I have free time, I thought, "I guess it's compensation time for y'all..."**

**Please leave me a review. It's important for me to know if I'm still good or out of whack.**

**P.S. Congrats to iBayne for the completion of his exams and a 4-month long holiday. Here's to you, smart bastard. **

**Just in case you guys didn't know already, iBayne's the evil mastermind behind the evil story that is _Galaxy At War: N7._ **

**(I'm really just saying he's evil because he killed my character, Colburn on his first mission as a squad leader)**

**I do have another character who's been killing and injuring quite a few others in recent chapters of _GaW_ (internet cookies for whoever can guess my character correctly). Check it out! **

* * *

I first felt the impact of the Alingon's soil against my chin. My armour rattled as my body made contact with the ground, and I could practically feel the pain vibrate throughout the rest of my body.

My mind was blank, ears were ringing, vision blurry. My gloved fingers curled into fists as I tried to get up from the cold ground, but my legs protested by screaming in pain. I suddenly felt a strong arm lift me to my feet, and voila, I looked up to find Napier grinning at me.

"C'mon, mate. We ain't got all day." As he helped me towards cover, the software scored three headshots in succession without even looking. "That blast was pretty fucking powerful, eh? Bet it beats those puny C4s you got back home anyday," Napier said as he put me down behind a wall of metal crates.

"The stasis pod!" T'Soni suddenly yelled, to which a hail of bullets answered by flying towards her, but her timely-conjured biotic bubble stopped them from ripping her to shreds. Tazzik's men were already halfway towards their ship with Shepard's body.

I tried to suppress a groan as I tried to get up again, but the sharp pain in my leg made me land on my ass again. I stole another glance at the Salarian's goons, and they were only 15 feet from their ship's hangar, ready to close once the pod was safely in their possession. I looked around and found Feron distracted by three of the Broker's mercs closing in on his position, while T'Soni was busy with maintaining her biotic barrier.

"Damn it, they're gonna get away!"

"Get back to the ship with T'Soni and Feron!" Napier commanded. "I'll get Shepard for you!"

"How?!"

The software unexpectedly vanished before my very eyes, and then I heard a voice scream, "How the fuck did he get back there?! Shoot that fucker! He's got the pod!"

_Did Napier just fucking teleport in front of me?_

But before I could ponder what other secrets he had been hiding from me, I was treated to a heart attack as the software promptly reappeared about three inches in front of my face again. And accompanying him was a rather tattered and crude stasis pod. Based on the stench that was slightly wafting from the case, I wasn't sure if it was functioning properly, either.

"What the fuck, man?!" I yelled in his face, startled.

"I thought I told you to get back to the ship?! You're slower than a tea-bagging snail!" With an irritated grunt, he placed an arm on my shoulder, and I immediately found myself at the pilot's seat of Feron's puny ship.

"I don't know how to fly this damn thing!"

"Just talk to it! I have to go now! T'Soni ain't gonna survive down there unless I haul her sorry blue ass up here! Bring the ship closer to us!"

Napier vanished again before I could ask what he bloody meant by _"just talk to it"._ My fingers fumbled with the control panel, but to no avail. Flying a skycar was one thing. Flying a teeny tiny spaceship that appeared to be on the verge of collapsing was a whole other universe.

I highly doubted Feron flew the damn thing by "just talking to it", but given the circumstances, I went "what the Hell'. The threat of dying in a videogame fire fight and never regaining true consciousness was a situation that could the world's toughest sceptic into it's biggest optimist.

"Uhh, ship, fly towards T'Soni," I said dumbly.

But surprisingly, the ship's engine miraculously started and it started taking off the ground, abet a little unstably. Napier must have worked one of his little secret magic tricks. I made a mental note to tie him up in a dark cellar and make him confess all of his tricks after all this shit was over. But in the meantime, I had to make sure we could all get out in one piece. We only had one stasis pod, and it was already occupied by Shepard's presumably half-decomposed corpse - not that I wanted to sleep in the horrible thing.

Through the glass of the ship's tiny cockpit, I could see Napier running beside a visibly exhausted T'Soni. The biotic barrier had clearly taken its toll on the Asari. Feron was also running, though he was lagging behind. Like seriously lagging.

"Hey, Kovac," Napier called out over the comm. I could hear the sound of a stray bullet hitting the nearby concrete in the background, in addition to T'Soni's panting. "Get your lazy ass hands workin' and give us covering fire!"

"Uhh, ship, show me the weapon controls."

* * *

Napier hoped the human was smart enough to figure things out.

"C'mon T'Soni, you're halfway there!" he encouraged, as he pick off a couple more of the Blue Suns with his Arc Pistol.

Teleporting would've been much easier, but then the software would have to wipe their minds, and because T'Soni and Feron were both programmed to be biotics, it wasn't going to be easy.

_Damn programming._

Besides, an amnesiac T'Soni was just about as useful as a slug in the deserts of Mars - a dead slug, that is. Kovac would definitely need T'Soni's expertise and assisstance if he wanted to get out of the damn game with his brain intact.

As if on cue, the gun of Feron's ship started firing.

_Well, at least he's not too stupid to operate a damn ship_.

Half of the bullets lodged themselves into the torsos of the pursuing mercs. The remaining rounds embedded themselves into the ground dangerously close to where the lucky ones were still standing.

The ship's gun stopped firing, and began to descend onto the ground. The entry hatch opened, and Napier immediately saw Kovac standing, sniper rifle in hand. The infiltrator gestured for them to pick up the pace.

"Alright, move, T'Soni, move!" Napier hollered.

The Asari sped up, and the software threw a grenade behind them, barely missing Feron.

The damn Drell was still so much further behind them. There wouldn't be time to get the reptilian humanoid if he continued his walk in the park.

With a rather forceful shove from Napier, the spent Asari managed to climb onto the ship.

Yet another reason why scientists shouldn't be on the frontlines with a gun - they died rather easily.

Noticing that T'Soni was already inside the cockpit and Feron was busy pressing the trigger of his pistol, Napier contemplated teleporting towards the Drell.

But an unanticipated earth-shattering BOOM shook the ground beneath them, catching them off guard. Kovac stumbled dangerously near the edge of the ship's entry ledge, but thankfully regained his balance in time.

Amidst the chaos, the software identified the source of the tremors: shredder trigger mines, shot with mass effect-powered cannons, used similar in a fashion to how a 21st century bazooka was utilised.

He glanced at Feron again. The Drell had stopped moving, now hiding behind a waist-high block of steel. Five spent heat sinks laid on the ground beside him. The subtle look of worry on Feron's features told Napier the Drell didn't have any left.

Another two mines hit the ground around them and promptly exploded, releasing their built-in killer blades in all directions, hence their name. The slivers of titanium went past Napier as if he was a ghost, as expected. Kovac, on the other hand, had retreated into the safety of their ship.

And then something in the far distance caught the software's eyes - an anti-spacecraft cannon, rolling out gloriously as the seconds ticked.

"Alright, Kovac, you guys gotta go!"

"What about Feron?!" T'Soni questioned.

"I am immobilised. Perhaps it is my fate. Leave, do not wait for me."

"And I gotta take care of a damn cannon before it blows ya' blokes into fucking scrambled eggs!"

* * *

"Wait," I said, trying to suppress the panic building up inside of me. "Are you gonna fucking stay down there too?!"

Surviving in this virtual world without Napier? Really? Could I make it for two years?

"Of course I am!"

"Are you fucking out of your mind? What's gonna happen to-"

And then I heard his voice in my head:

_I'm not gonna die, you retard! I'm a software for Christ's sake! Now leave before even I can't save your pathetic ass!_

I stole a glance at T'Soni, who was now in the pilot's seat, her slender fingers flying over the holographic console.

Yeah, Napier definitely didn't say it over the comm.

_Whataya think, punk? Now go!_

As if knowingly, the ship started to lift off.

"I am... _sorry... gentlemen_. I will forever remember your sacrifices," the scientist said, her tone hinting slightly of regret.

"Just make sure you make it worth it," Napier said, playing along.

His acting skills were definitely worthy of an Oscar.

Feron didn't say anything.

* * *

The journey to our rendezvous point with Cerberus was awkward.

Very awkward.

A thick layer of heavy silence coated the air, the only audible sounds being the blips and beeps of the ship's controls. As T'Soni flew the ship, I made myself a little more comfortable by sitting in an empty spot on the cold metal floor, which was unfortunately right next to Shepard's slightly opened stasis pod. If I wasn't so tired and in pain, I definitely would've stayed standing.

Then again, I was in pain, and I was tired.

My mind couldn't stop thinking on what I should do for my next step. Live life as a bum until the software reappeared? Sign a two-year contract with Cerberus? To stay on Illium or return to the Citadel?

And then it hit me that I had never made a single decision ever since Napier arrived, which was like what - five minutes after I got stuck in the game? I was like the dutiful student, listening to whatever his mentor had to say, and learning whatever his mentor had to teach.

I let out a groan of annoyance.

_Why does everything in this damn game have to be so freaking difficult? I'm going to sue the developers right after I get out of this horrid game._

"Were you two close?" T'Soni queried.

I jumped slightly at the sudden question, to which my leg retaliated by screaming in pain again.

"Uhh, not quite, in a way. I hate him with all my guts, but the man's saved my life more than once, and pretty much everything I know right now was taught by him."

"I see, I am sorry he is gone."

"Hey, don't be, Doc. He was an ass anyway."

_Yeah, an ass who is also my babysitter._

"Nevertheless, I am grateful to both agent Napier and Feron. They were... heroic men. They have done this galaxy as great service."

"Yeah well, now let's hope Cerberus can deliver what they said."

* * *

Miranda Lawson waited patiently as she watched the worn ship dock, through the viewing window of the Lazarus Research Station.

And then she saw the entry latch open, and out came Dr. T'Soni, followed by agent Kovac, who was visibly distressed with having to carry a stasis pod.

_Shepard's_ stasis pod.

"Assist them," the operative ordered.

Two of Miranda's subordinates quickly rushed forward to the pair and promptly took over.

"Congratulations, you have succeeded."

She noticed their grim faces, and only then did Miranda realise that the Drell and the other human weren't with them.

The operative felt obligated to offer a few words of condolences, but she knew better. Something much bigger was at stake, and a few sacrifices were definitely necessary. Acceptable collateral damage, the genetically-perfect woman deemed, in exchange for the safety of the galaxy.

"Send it to the lab for stasis reversal, quickly!" she ordered.

And so, the scientists scurried off with the damaged pod. T'Soni attempted to follow, but her legs gave way almost immediately. Kovac caught her in time.

"Do not worry, Doctor. We now have Shepard in our safe custody, and we'll bring her back. But for now, the both of you require recuperation, and we have made sufficient accommodations."

"But-" the Asari protested weakly.

"This is for the best, doctor. Please don't argue with me."

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you guys think!**

**Meanwhile, if you'll excuse me, I'll be moving on to chapter 11... It'll be out before my term break ends.**

**Promise (nope, not gonna break it this time)!**


	11. Please read - announcement

**A/N: I've been planning to start a series of weekly updates for Uploaded from the beginning of next week to compensate you guys, but it seems that no one's actually reading this anymore. If you are, please do let me know through a PM or review or whatever you're comfortable with. Because it'd be rather more worth it to just update during my term break rather than crank out a weekly chapter when no one's reading. Thanks.**

* * *

Cerberus had good service, I'll give them that.

Lawson's subordinate had brought T'Soni and I down to a hallway not far from where we were, which was good, because my leg seriously couldn't take anymore work. There, we were handed a key card each.

I hurriedly opened the door, and found myself staring at the intricate interior of a rather posh room, or to be more accurate, _suite._

Immediately before the door was a large TV console, a large coffee table and a pair of couches that could fit two and three guests each. Across the living room was an average-sized kitchen equipped with shiny pots and pans, along with a pretty huge fridge. Between the couch and the kitchen was a moderate-sized, sleek dining table, with more than enough room for four. Added with the parquet flooring and the warm orange lighting, yeah, I'd say the room was pretty darn posh.

What a shame if it was to be stained with blood, no?

"Uh, what's your name?" I asked the man.

"Albert," he respectfully replied.

"Well, Albert, does this station have a medical section or something? My leg's injured bad. Real bad, actually."

"Don't worry, Mr. Kovac. We'll send a doctor to you right away. But why don't you freshen up inside while you wait for them to arrive?"

"Yeah, that sounds great."

He sent me a courteous smile, before turning to T'Soni. "Would you like anything, Dr. T'Soni? Some food perhaps?"

"No, thank you, I'll be just fine."

"We have specially prepared a selection of Asari delica-"

"_No, thank you._ I'll be alright."

Our guide seemed to get the message.

"You can always call for me if you need anything, then," Albert responded, still as polite as ever.

"Goodnight," the Asari said before entering her room, and quite possibly into seclusion.

"Yeah well, see you," I said to Albert. "And tell your doctor to hurry up."

* * *

As I entered the room, it seemed larger than ever, now that I could take in all of it. Separated by a screen from the living room was the bedroom, which was also large as heck, coupled with an equally big wardrobe. I wobbled my way to the couch and sat down, with my legs finally relieved to have the pressure off of them. I started to slowly remove the pieces of my armour, now more troublesome than ever.

That was until I started to begin on my right leg, which resumed hurting like a bitch. With no other choice, I only took off the armour pieces on my painless left leg.

Just then, the bell rang.

"Sorry, but my leg's busted," I shouted out. "You're gonna have to open the door on your side."

After a few seconds, the door opened, and I found a bald man in Cerberus uniform entering my room.

"Mr. Kovac," he greeted. "I'm Dr. Kensington, I believed you called for me?"

"Yeah well, my right leg hurts like shit and I can't do anything about it."

"Hmmn, let me see."

After a few minutes of examining, Kensington said, "Oh dear, I'm afraid your leg requires some rather serious treatment."

Although instead of immediately doing some horrid painful things to my injured leg, though, the doctor walked to the fridge and got out two green bottles. He set one on the table, opened the other, and handed it to me. I took a big gulp out of the icy cold glass bottle.

Beer.

I frowned.

"Hey, aren't you going to give me meds later? And I thought doctors hate it when their patients drink."

"Years of working in this business has told me that patients tend to drink more when we tell them not to. If I'm correct, you were planning on opening up a few of these after I leave, yes?"

"Um..."

Kensington arched an eyebrow.

I caved in. "Alright, fine. Yeah, I was planning to hit the sauce tonight. Hard not to after all that's happened today."

"I understand, but I'm limiting you to only two bottles tonight. If you really need to have more, there are non-alcoholic ones in the fridge. Deal?"

I grinned.

"Deal."

* * *

Turned out Kensington was quite the doctor. He said a piece of shrapnel from the grenade blast had gone into my leg. The only possible reason I didn't pass out was because my suit had sent streams of medi-gel into my wound instantly. The doctor managed to patch up my leg rather nicely, but not before a horridly painful moment of tough-love medical treatment.

"Remember, only one more bottle, and then you rest," Kensington said before he left.

I went to take a shower, but ended up playing with the soap and bubbles like a child in the gigantic bathroom half the size of my apartment. I had to take my hats off to the wonderful developers of Mass Effect for creating the miraculous wonder that was medi-gel. Waterproof and airtight meant showering without trying to avoid water getting into my wound.

After a long, luxurious shower, I was prepared to rummage through the wardrobe for clothes, but I didn't have to. It was packed full of clothing, all of them my size.

Creepy.

But convenient.

And very comfortable.

Sadly, there weren't any of the clothes that I was hoping for. I'd long learnt that Mass Effect didn't scream T-shirts and jeans, but there weren't any ordinary civilian clothing either. Only fancy suits and the iconic Cerberus uniform.

I reluctantly put on a dress shirt and pants, with my shirt tucked out and sleeves rolled.

I hardly wore suits, but I disliked wearing the uniform of a terrorist organisation, as good as they were with customer service and satisfaction.

Lazy, I decided to put on the slippers that came with the bathrobe. I wasn't exactly enthusiastic for socks and shoes again after hours of lugging around in metal boots.

I limped over the kitchen and searched around the cupboards. I settled on mac & cheese. As soon as I managed got my supper nuked, I went to the fridge and cracked open a bottle of non-alcoholic beer.

I took a sip and immediately sent the rest of it into the trash.

Nothing like the real deal.

_Ding._

My mac & cheese was good to go.

As I sat down and chewed my pasta, my mind crashed like waves against a cliff.

What was I going to do now that Napier wasn't around to well, save my ass - not that I was going to ever say that out loud.

There was nowhere for me to go.

After I finished the last of my meal and pondered about my potentially vagrant-like future, I went to bed.

And my mind started to wonder if T'Soni was doing the same next door, trying to pretend everything was fine and futilely trying to get some shut eye. Worrying the Hell out of Shepard even though there was nothing she could do about it.

Plucking up my courage, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and went to her door.

I was most probably going to get blasted out of the station by blue energy, but what the heck.

I knocked on the door.

No response.

I knocked again.

A good five minutes passed, and I was about to knock again when the door opened.

T'Soni stared at me wordlessly, her blue eyes unflinchingly icy.

I mentally cowered in fear.

"Uhh..." I said rather dumbly. "Hey doc, just wanted to check up on you. I figured, you know, we both probably can't sleep, so I brought this over."

I gestured with the bottle. "Can I come in, or do you want to kick me out?"

She stayed silent.

"I'm perfectly fine with both," I quickly added.

_Please say no._

"No, it's alright. Please come in."

I took a seat at the couch and set the bottle on the table. T'Soni got us two glasses and returned, taking a seat on the other couch. Taking the bottle, the Asari proceeded to read the words on the table.

"Tuh-nee-see whiz-key," she said slowly. "Is that correct? I'm not very good at reading human languages. My best is English, but I'm afraid I've barely scratched the surface on that one."

"It's teh-nuh-see," I said slowly.

"Teh-nuh-see?" she repeated.

"Now say it quickly. Teh-nuh-see. _Tennessee_."

"_Tennessee_."

"Yeah, that's right. You're pretty good, actually. But why are you learning English anyway? You've already got a translator.

"I was on business on Earth once, and one night, my translator glitched. It wasn't working anymore, so I tried to go around asking for help, but everyone looked at me like I was a maniac. I told myself to never allow such a thing to happen again, and thus I took up English. But work and the search for Shepard had not allowed me much time for other activities, so my proficiency in English remained stagnant."

"Oh."

A moment of awkward silence entered, so I filled our glasses to kill the tension.

"Try it, don't down it all in one gulp though, or it'll burn your throat."

T'Soni took a sip. "I had whiskey once, but this tastes different. I believe I had scotch whiskey the other time."

"Really? Where did you try it?"

"At a party, with the other Normandy crew. At Shepard's apartment on Intai'sei."

Our conversation took another awkward turn. It seemed like most of the Asari's life revolved around the dead heroine.

But enough was enough. The whiskey was starting to work its magic, and I was beat. I finished my glass.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, doc, but I gotta go and hit the sack." I stood up. "Thanks for the uh, chat."

"Of course, it has been hard recently. Take care, operative Kovac."

"Goodnight."

* * *

I went snoring the moment my head hit the pillow. The alcohol helped, but so did the silk sheets too.

It felt like only five minutes before I had to open my eyes again, the shrill ringing of the terminal on the bedside table threatening to burst my ear drums.

"Kovac," I said, irritated.

"It's Miranda Lawson. The reports on Shepard's just arrived."


	12. First encounter -Drake Frost

**So we've hit over 40! Much love and thanks to Eryxter, SgtTarkus, evilninjadog, Brittsis, deftonie, wpagos, cateye0911 and revanchist131, as well as those of you who have stuck around since the beginning for making this possible. **

**As usual, please leave a review, so that I can know how you guys feel! :)**

**And if you guys have any questions, feel free to leave questions through PMs or reviews, and when there are enough, I'll compile them and post a second interlude. :)**

**Update: Hail has just started falling over here, and I'm honestly rather terrified right now. Ice from the skies is NOT supposed to exist at a country situated at the equator! The world is ending! :O**

* * *

I hurriedly limped my way towards the lab, where I could see Miranda Lawson and an obviously nervous T'Soni were already waiting.

"Hey," I greeted. "So what's up?"

"Lab reports have come in, and they're not exactly optimistic," Lawson replied.

"What do you mean?"

"By the time Shepard's stasis pod arrived on our table, its condition was in a very weathered state. Coupled with the fact that it wasn't a very good one to begin with, her body is in a much worse state than it originally was on Alchera. At least there, the extreme cold temperatures helped preserved the.. _corpse_..."

"Can it- can_ she_ be saved?" T'Soni queried, her voice laden with worry.

"Most probably, but I'm afraid it is going to require much more effort and resources than we had planned beforehand. Our scientists were not prepared for such an advanced stage of decomposition and tissue deterioration."

"With all due respect, Miss Lawson, I don't want_ maybe_. I want a _yes_," I said, perhaps a little too harshly. "Because I did not go through all that shit just to-"

"This is Cerberus we are talking, Mr. Grayson," Lawson snapped back. "We have the best scientists in this galaxy, cutting edge technology that nobody else has. So yes, we_ will_ get Shepard back, only now we'll take more time is all."

She glared at me.

"Do you understand me, Mr. Grayson?"

"With disturbing clarity."

* * *

"It doesn't matter what it takes," the Illusive Man said. "Just ask, and I'll give it to you. Just make sure Shepard wakes up from that operating table."

"But with all due respect, sir," Jacob Taylor said. "There's nothing left of her, just some tubes and bones, to be honest..."

"There is _nothing_ Cerberus cannot accomplish, Mr. Taylor. Besides, I'm certain you are also aware of the consequences should we fail to revive the Commander?"

Miranda Lawson watched on as her superior's unnaturally lightning blue eyes pierced through the gaze of the Cerberus lieutenant.

"Now that we have Shepard in our hands, we must tighten the security on the station. The Collectors and the Shadow Broker aren't the kind to let up easily, especially after such a crushing defeat."

The Illusive Man took a leisurely sip of brandy.

"Mr. Taylor, I'm putting you in charge of security. Contact Miss Lawson if you need anything. Don't take any chances, and don't let me down. Am I clear?"

The other man waited for a moment before he responded. "Yes, sir," he said, before walking out of the quantum entanglement.

The genetically-engineered woman studied her superior.

While the man frequently participated in fine dining, clothes, cigars, top-shelf liquor and women, the Illusive Man was not to be mistaken for a generic unproductive bachelor. It would be dangerous, lethally dangerous for one to do so. While his indulgences were not a façade, the mysterious head of Cerberus was definitely not an individual to be taken lightly with. There was no one in the whole Milky Way could match up to the Illusive Man, in terms of resources, wealth and data intelligence. Not even the Asari, Turian or Salarian governments, including the Alliance Cosairs as well.

The man was rivalled only by the Shadow Broker and the shadowy Collectors.

His name was only known to a few across the galaxy, but if it was known, then it was -without a doubt- feared as well. Even among his own organisation, less than twenty had actually seen his face, with less than half of them having met the enigmatic human face-to-face.

Miranda Lawson had worked diligently under the Illusive Man for a very long while to have achieved what she currently had - a revered position and an infamous reputation, just the way she liked it. Even for other cell leaders, they would only have met him once every six months. None were his right-hand man like her.

The Illusive Man snubbed out the last of his cigar.

"Is it true, Miranda?" the Illusive Man suddenly asked. "Is Shepard really such a lost cause?"

The officer chose her words carefully. "Her condition is much worse than we originally anticipated, and I have to admit is going to take at least five times of what we have right now to revive her, if not more."

The Illusive Man poured himself another helping of brandy, and downed it all in one shot.

"But with unlimited resources?"

She took a deep breath.

"Yes, it can be done. I'll need more time, but it can be done."

The Illusive Man seemed pleased with her answer.

"Good."

He lit another cigar.

"What do you propose to do of our guests?"

"Hiring the services of Liara T'Soni is out of the question, but killing her would be of no benefit to us. It seems she's having a personal vendetta with the Shadow Broker. Adding into account her personal connections, I highly recommend leaving her alive as a viable ally in future."

"And what of Grayson Kovac?"

"I- I don't know, sir," Miranda admitted. "We couldn't find any information on him, no family, no prior contacts, no job applications, no records, no property ownership... _Nothing_. It is as if he appeared out of thin air."

"What about Jack Napier?"

"We've tried digging out Grayson Kovac's past through him as well, but to no avail. Napier is just a run-of-the-mill C-Sec officer for-hire. We couldn't find any corresponding links between the two of them. That man is a ghost."

Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the glimmer of amusement across the Illusive Man's scarred features.

"Sir... are you..."

"What do you think of his capabilities?" he asked.

"Smart man, with obviously better survival techniques than both Napier and the Drell, Feron. I might have to cut off that tongue of his, though."

The Illusive Man gave a slight smile.

"Get him a bait. If he passes the test, put him on our payroll."

"Are you sure, sir?" Miranda protested slightly. "If we use him, we'll need to keep a very tight leash on that man."

"_Are you questioning my judgement, Miss Lawson?_" the Illusive Man said, his voice a low growl, tinged with the touch of the lethality of a scorpion.

"I... _No, sir_."

He gave a satisfied nod.

"Good, now see to it that my orders are executed. And Miranda, I have high expectations of you. _Do not disappoint me_."

* * *

I watched T'Soni push around the pieces of food on her plate.

_Calamari gumbo_, I remembered Albert saying. The human version that was derived from an originally Asari recipe. I'd passed and opted for the wonderful buffet line instead.

Say what you would about Cerberus, but they had fantastic employee perks. I'd been expecting nutrient bars and astronaut food on the research station, but to my pleasant surprise, a wide range of mouth watering old school breakfast foods was offered.

"It's like this every day. Breakfast, lunch _and_ dinner," a scientist told me while we were queuing for the scrambled eggs. "Fantastic huh? They pay well too."

Afterwards, I picked up a few rashers of -thankfully pork- bacon, slices of toast, and a good old mug of piping hot coffee before I returned to the table.

I couldn't help but give myself an approving nod.

_Good job Grayson. Anywhere and everywhere, food will always be your best friend._

I tore open a few packets of creamers and brown sugar, stirred, and took a sip of the now-not-so-dark liquid.

Freshly brewed, just like what you would have expected in a downhome diner back home.

Perfect.

_Ah, the little things in life_.

The only thing less-than-perfect was probably the fact that I was enjoying all of these at a Cerberus research station.

Ashamedly, it was only after I'd polished off my brilliant eggs and begun buttering my still-warm toast that I'd notice the Asari's restlessness and non-existent appetite.

"Uh hey, doc. You feeling okay?"

_Of course she's not, you retard,_ I told myself.

"Is your food really that bad?" I asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

She didn't reply, but merely took a sip of her own coffee, now probably as cold as her gaze. And then I remembered T'Soni hadn't added anything to her coffee at all.

Cold, tough _and bitter_.

I mentally shivered.

Cautiously, I speared one of those oddly purplish morsels on her plate with my fork -none which looked the_ slightest bit _like calamari- and foolishly placed them into my mouth.

What immediately followed could only be described as the taste bud equivalent of a massacre so horrible and numbing that I thought my tongue had dissolved into a bloody mush.

I quickly spit out the hazardous specimen and ungraciously cleaned my tongue with a serviette, desperate not to leave any traces of the demonic food on my delicate tongue.

Cerberus might have been great at customer satisfaction, but it was still a human-centric organisation, to put it nicely. Although I wasn't sure if they truly sucked at preparing alien cuisine, or if they were simply trying to kill off the Asari by destroying her nervous system.

"Yeah, I can see why you aren't eating..." I muttered.

I looked at the Asari intently, trying to get her to feel disturbed and respond, but after a few minutes,_ I_ was the one becoming increasingly uneasy. So I stopped and resumed munching on my heavenly human delicacies.

If she didn't want to talk, she certainly wasn't going to anytime soon.

I was halfway through my glorious non-varren bacon when she suddenly said, "Excuse me," and left.

I finished the rest my splendid breakfast without event and returned to my room.

_Maybe I can watch a few movies or something, and then head back out for lunch. Ooh, maybe we'll have steak. Do they have room service?_

I didn't know when or where Cerberus was releasing us out back to the world, but I certainly wasn't going to bring it forward. For a man with no mission and no income, top-notch free-of-charge accommodations and catering seemed like an excellent vacation, Cerberus or not.

I wasn't far away from my room when I briefly escaped my daydreaming and noticed a man following me. I didn't think much of it. After all this, was Cerberus. Security on the station was probably better than the White House.

But suspicions were raised when he still stuck around when I reached my door.

I turned around to face him.

His matted, messy blonde hair first caught my eye, along with his sharp features, scarred face, and highlighter-green eyes that were definitely not the work of nature. And then his Cerberus outfit. But instead of the uniform everyone else was wearing, the man donned a slim, shiny suit of battle armour, with the Cerberus logo proudly emblazoned on the chest plate. His gauntlets were exceptionally bulky, with just a faint hint of dark blue energy swimming around it.

To be honest, the man looked like a wolf. A very dangerous wolf.

Without warning, a whip of electric blue appeared, slashing forward in my direction. My instincts told me to dodge, but my injured leg would not allow it. The whip struck my left shoulder and instantly registered a sharp shock. It burned, in an electrifying sort of way, and I let out a not-so-glamourous "aahh!".

When I turned my head up again, the whip was gone, but I noticed his forearms were now encased in a rather terrifying bright hue that could only scream intense pain.

The whips must've been conjured up by the man's biotics through the aid of those gauntlets.

_Great._

Right now, I was seriously hating Cerberus' 'cutting edge technology'.

The man lashed out another whip, but this time I was prepared. I quickly brought up my omni-shield.

Electricity and holo-tech clashed into a sizzling disagreement. The man's whip disappeared, but it also took a huge chunk out of my shield's energy. If this continued, the fight wouldn't last another minute, and I wouldn't be the one left standing.

I decided to try my luck with my old SWAT skills.

_Step one: understand and negotiate._

"Hey buddy, maybe we can sort this out," I said. "Did you get the wrong guy or something?"

The man struck again, and my shield fizzled ominously upon contact with the damned whip.

_Guess that's a no._

That meant Cerberus was after my ass.

_So much for customer service and satisfaction._

* * *

Drake Frost lashed out again, and this time, Grayson Kovac's omni-shield obediently faded out.

Excellent.

The Cerberus lieutenant's lips curled into a wry smile as he charged up his gauntlets for the finishing touch. It would be splendid, big.

And deliciously final.

His prey's omni-tool would require a 30-second cool down before the wretched man could create another of those annoying orange shields.

Half a minute was more than sufficient to carry his corpse and eject it out of the nearest airlock.

As the phoenix vanguard released what was to be his final strike, he could sense that something was not quite right.

Kovac's fingers were still scrambling over his omni-tool.

But it was futile.

Nothing could save him from the biotic.

As the bio-electric whipped flew downwards, the target suddenly brandished out his omni-tool.

And out came a fiery spew of raging flames.

* * *

The man's whip dissipated, much to my relief.

The fire worked.

_Good job, Grayson. You just saved your own sorry ass._

I pushed forward, using my fire-spewing Omni-tool like garlic against Dracula.

The biotic visibly winced, annoyed, as he retreated, step by step.

I'd suddenly recalled one of my training sessions back on Illium with Napier.

Mass effect fields were disabled in the presence of fire.

And biotic energy _was_ mass effect energy.

I applauded myself for being a genius.

"Not so dangerous now, are you, punk?" I taunted.

But my luck didn't hold.

The fire from my omni-tool triggered the fire alarm, and the sprinklers activated.

My Dracula's garlic extinguished.

Seizing the opportunity, the blonde grabbed my good arm and sent a heavy blow to my chin.

Unfortunately, I fell on my ass in an extremely unfashionable way.

"Game's over, _meat_," he declared, voice gruff as he grabbed me by the collar, not unlike a very angry tiger.

He was about to send me another crushing blow when a voice stopped him at the last second.

"_Stop_," it ordered.

It was Miranda Lawson.

My attacker frowned, irritated that he couldn't complete his kill.

Catching him off guard, I kicked him in the chest with my good leg and got to my feet.

"You're going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to stab me in the back, Lawson."

"Really?" she said, amused. "It seemed to me, you were having trouble keeping up with operative Frost over here."

"Fuck you," I retorted. "And fuck your guard dog here, too."

"I should kill you!" Frost growled.

"_Leave us_," Lawson ordered. "I have another assignment for you."

Frost gave his superior an angry, indignant look.

"Now."

The biotic walked away, but not before shooting a few daggers my way.

I rubbed my bruised chin.

"You don't have a very obedient dog," I said. "I think you gave him too little doggie treats."

"It'll do you well to hold your tongue, Mr. Kovac. Operative Frost is one of our best agents. Few have lasted encounters longer than five minutes with him. None has lived to tell the tale. He took his time with you."

"Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that," I snapped back. "What does Cerberus want with me, Lawson? Or is murdering your ex-employees a habit?"

"It was merely a test, to see if you were as skilled as we thought."

She gave a smile.

"And you've passed. Congratulations, Mr. Kovac, Cerberus would like to offer you a position among our organisation."

* * *

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" Kovac exclaimed. "First you tried to kill me, then now you're offering me _a job?"_

"We are sincere in our invitation, what happened just now was merely to see if you were as good as we thought."

The man appeared to ponder over the suggestion for awhile.

"And if I refuse?"

Miranda Lawson smirked.

"Then you die, right here and right now. You're either with us or against us, Mr. Kovac. And I suggest you choose carefully."

* * *

**A/N: So there we go! Hope you guys like this! **

**And I always try to include the questionable edible product that is calamari gumbo at least once in any of my Mass Effect stories, haha!**

**And now that we're at 44 subscribers, let's try to hit 50, shall we?**

**Cheers! :D**


	13. OC submissions needed, PLUS NEW POLL!

**(ANNOUNCEMENT: I have published a new revised poll on Grayson's potential love life. Please head over to my profile to vote, as it will make a very big impact on the events of Uploaded. **

**Note: you can vote for MULTIPLE choices)**

**In the event that you're using FF on mobile, leave your vote as a PM or a review (separate from your OC submission).**

* * *

**A/N: ****As you guys can see from the edited summary, I'm in need of OCs, of any race and gender. They'll be used in future chapters and will play a major and vital part in Uploaded, but sadly won't be appearing anytime soon (sometimes you have to wait for good things).**

**If you're interested, please leave your OC submission in the form of a separate review, with their name, race, gender, class, a nutshell of their personality and backstory in the form of one or two paragraphs (not a thousand words, please! I've had bad experiences with that.) as well their armour (patterns, colours, etc) and weapons of choice.**

**(Update: Submissions left in the form of PMs will _NOT_ be entertained. Sorry to say this, but my inbox is getting cluttered with them, and I don't like it. Sending me them in my inbox will not make me more inclined to like them.) **

**Now if there are too many submissions, I won't guarantee that all of them will be used in the same fashion. However I will try to incorporate them here and there throughout future arcs. Also, I do not promise that everything about a character chosen will be utilised. For example, if you have a female Turian sentinel with the personality of an asshole, I might change a feature (i.e. class or personality) if said trait is too common amongst those that I have chosen.**

**With all that said, thanks for the reviews guys! I appreciate them! :D**

* * *

"Miranda," the Illusive Man greeted. "Any reports on Liara T'Soni?"

"No abnormal behaviour on her part yet. Her life has been routine ever since she returned to Illium. The scorched marks on the walls of the corridor gained her attention, but she seems to have bought our story of Grayson Kovac leaving the station before her."

The enigmatic human gave a satisfied curl of his lips.

"Speaking of which, how has our new employee been faring?"

"Obedient. Foul mouthed,_ but obedient_. I have to say, I'm impressed. His will to survive is... _tenacious_."

"And how are our experiments going?"

"Excellent. You were right, sir, about the usefulness of Grayson Kovac. His fights have effectively pinpointed the flaws of our current test subjects, allowing us to move in and improve our techniques. Our researchers have estimated improved efficiency of red sand-induced strength enhancers by around 12 percent."

The Illusive Man took a sip of bourbon. "Well done. Move on to phase two. I would like to see how our friend here deals with Project Phoenix."

Miranda Lawson suppressed a surge of worry. "Are you sure? Isn't it a little too fast? After all, it has only been-"

"Miranda, I understand you have your reservations about Kovac, but he is currently our fastest method of attaining perfection. Very soon, we will no longer require his aid,_ and then_ we can safely eliminate him."

Her eyes widened slightly.

_That was unexpected._

"But I thought we had signed a mutual agreement with Kovac to let him go after his job is complete? We should stand by our word. After all, he did help us recover Shepard's body."

The Illusive Man took a leisurely smoke.

"And have him remain out in the galaxy with knowledge of our secrets? Once he slips onto Omega, we may never find him again, and Kovac will forever remain a potential threat. I understand your concerns, Miranda, but we must do what must be done, for the good of humanity and its future."

"I... I understand."

* * *

Uppercut.

Block.

Heel kick.

Jab.

Dodge roll.

Guard passing.

Whips.

Fire.

Now you might be thinking that Twister, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and circus tricks have had just made a horrible baby, but I was in fact simply describing my life for the past two months.

Which sadly felt like centuries.

I narrowly dodged the gloved fist coming my way, and sent the Cerberus soldier a left hook of my own. He stumbled a few steps backwards and let out a loud roar of anger.

_Oops._

The man flung towards me with about the speed of a cheetah on steroids, which was not a good thing. We crashed onto the cold, shiny metal floors of the sparring room -or rather,_ killing chamber_- like a pair of ravenous hyenas struggling to claim ownership over the catch of the day.

I groaned in pain.

Buried under 220 pounds of pure muscle was pretty much just as bad as getting chewed by a lawnmower - not that I was enthusiastic about confirming that theory.

Unfazed, faux He-Man delivered two consecutive heavy blows to my face and wrapped his calloused hands around my throat in a chokehold.

_One._

I punched him in the cheek, but the man's face felt like titanium.

_Two._

My fingers fumbled around his thick hands, futilely trying to get him to loosen his grip.

_Three._

I felt like my windpipe was crushing.

_Four._

I prayed for Miranda Lawson to yell _stop_ through the intercom, but she didn't.

Dark spots littered my vision.

_Five._

I could already feel the life force sucked out of my body. I was going to be dead in another second if I wasn't going to do anything about.

Mustering up the last bit of energy left in my half-dead body, I punched my assailant right in the Adam's apple.

After an agonising, painful, arduous half-second, his eyes widened, registering what could only be unfathomable pain, and immediately his hold on my throat loosened.

I kicked the huge hunk of muscle off my body, my lungs gasping for sweet, sweet oxygen at the same time, only to be hindered by the aching of my bruised windpipe.

My opponent remained on the ground, clutching at his throat, momentarily disabled with pain.

Good.

* * *

It took me quite awhile, but I finally managed to stand up and slowly hobbled my way towards the exit.

"Well done, Mr. Kovac," Miranda Lawson said, that damned smug grin plastered on her flawless face. She gave a patronising clap. "That was pretty impressive."

"_Impressive?"_ I yelled, to which my injured voice box immediately disagreed with. "That guy's a fucking animal! Doesn't Cerberus have employee protection policies?"

"We're paying good credits for your services, Kovac. It's a small price."

"Yeah well, all those money in my account aren't worth two shits if I can't use them."

The woman regarded me with a smirk.

"That'll be all for today. Go get some rest, and I'll send Dr. Kensington to tend to you soon."

I started to make my way far away from the horrible place.

"Oh, and we'll be having a biotic session tomorrow."

I turned around to face the Cerberus officer, jaw wide open.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I just went through Hell today and tomorrow you're pitting me against a biotic? I'm a human being, not a pet elephant at the circus!"

"You don't exactly have a say in this, Kovac. You're contracted to do so."

"Screw that bullshit, Lawson, and you can stick the damn contract up your ass once you're done. It was either sign fucking thing or die."

"_Exactly._ Like I said: you don't have a choice."

* * *

"My, my, now_ that's_ a nasty bruise," Kensington remarked. "It must've been very painful."

_No shit, Sherlock._

"What on Earth did you do? Miss Lawson wouldn't tell me any of it."

"Let's just say it's part of my damn contract."

I would've said more, if not for the fact that there probably more than a hundred cameras in my room.

The doctor slapped a thick layer of cream onto my neck.

A much-welcome cooling sensation soon followed.

"Well, then my advice would be to suck it up, Mr. Kovac. After all, it's all about the money."

_Too bad it's not._

"Wish it were that simple, Doc, w_ish it were_."

Kensington handed me the rest of the cream.

"Apply a new coat every three hours," he instructed. "The swelling should be gone by tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Doc."

He started packing up.

"And I highly recommend soft foods, like porridge. Harder foods such as steak aren't exactly your throat's best friends right now."

Damn it, I was planning on rewarding myself for my brush with mortality with a T-Bone later on.

"And no alcohol! Dehydration is the last thing you need."

_Great. Just great._

Beaten within an inch of my life and I wasn't even allowed to indulge in a little R&R.

"Mr. Kovac," Kensington said. "I trust you'll be an obedient patient?"

I flashed him my best smile.

"When am I not?"

Apart from the shots of whiskey every night for the past two months.

Satisfied, he left the room.

Reluctantly, I headed to the kitchen and brought down a packet of instant soup from the cupboard.

And it wasn't even cream of chicken, my favourite. It was cream of corn.

I hated corn, but it would have to do.

I tore open the packet, poured it into a mug, added water, and nuked the thing.

As I waited for the _ding_, my mind pondered about the potential implications of my uncertain future.

It had been slightly more than two months already, but Napier still hadn't appeared. He'd told me couldn't die back on Alingon, but he hadn't made any sort of contact with me yet.

Had he abandoned me?

_Nah, he's supposed to protect me._

Was the software stuck in some sort of twisted glitch?

Unfortunately this wasn't _Wreck-It Ralph_, where glitching meant the ability to teleport - for which I would trade just about anything right now.

But _nooo_, this was _Mass Effect_, the game all about blinky flashlight, ugly aliens and hostile ancient forces Hell-bent on mass destruction of all civilisation.

Glitching probably meant being stuck in the game world for the rest of your life while your physical body rotted on a damned couch back in good old reality.

Whoever said video games were fun had no idea what they were talking about.

* * *

**A/N: Now here you go! The next update will probably come around the middle of next week, due to all the presentations I have to do this week. In the meantime, send in your OC submissions and ****amuse yourselves with the new polls (including a new romance candidate poll) until next week arrives!**

**See you soon!**


	14. 4th of July special!

**A/N: Howdy! In honour of the 4th of July, I decided to release this chapter prematurely as some sort of celebratory chapter for all American friends reading this.**

**That said, don't be surprised if 15 comes out late next week... After all, I _am_ bringing next week's chapter forward.**

**And thank you so much for over 50 subs. That's more than half a hundred now!**

**P.S. If you haven't voted, do so now!**

* * *

He walked up the stairs, his shiny, silver armour gleaming against the bright white florescent lights of the station.

The dirty blonde hair, the scarred face, the characteristic sneer.

Everything was in place.

"Captain Frost," a Cerberus scientist greeted as he entered the lab. "Everything is has been smooth sailing so far. Emergency equipment and biotic-suppressants are all on standby. The test subject and Grayson Kovac are just waiting for our go-ahead for round two now."

He gave the red-haired scientist a hard look.

"All plans for today are cancelled. I want everyone except for Grayson Kovac to get out of this room in five minutes."

"But sir-" the woman tried to protest.

The blonde grabbed her by the collar of her uniform, his tight grip threatening to tear off the rather durable fabric.

"Are you questioning my orders?" he growled.

"N- no, sir," she stuttered. "It's just that Miss Lawson hadn't-"

"This is a direct order from the Illusive Man. Unless you want me to bring you to him to confirm it?"

Panic surged from the wide brown eyes of the poor woman.

"Humph."

He shoved her away, a satisfactory smirk complimenting his harsh features.

"I thought so. Spread the orders,_ now!"_ the man barked.

"Y-yes, sir!"

* * *

_Okay, Grayson. Goal of the day: don't die_.

I splashed icy water onto my face, and let the beads of cold slowly drip down to my chin, and then fall back to the sink, now stained bright red with the blood from my nose.

None of it got onto my -ashamedly- new set of shiny Cerberus armour.

The one Napier gave me was pretty much trashed after Alingon, and apparently Cerberus protocol demanded their 'employees' to don their alleged state-of-the-art suits instead.

That said, their armour_ was_ pretty darn comfortable, although it didn't provide quite as much padding as I had liked. The punches pulled by those animalistic test subjects were downright brutal and left my body in an almost-permanent hue of black and blue every so often.

I wiped off the remaining droplets of water with a fresh, clean towel -staining it pink in the process- and stepped out of the bathroom, only to find it ominously empty.

Save for one particularly ugly bastard - Drake Frost.

I eyed the biotic carefully.

"Where's everyone else?"

"_Gone_. There's a change of plans," he said in his gravelly voice.

My instincts told me otherwise.

"_Really?_ Where's Lawson?"

"Busy. The Illusive Man sent me."

The man had a pretty good poker face. I couldn't see an ounce of emotion.

He opened the door of the room.

"Go, now. We're on a tight schedule."

Something in his eyes told me I would be leaving the room, one way or another. So reluctantly, I walked, but at the pace of an overweight tortoise, just to stall for time and figure out what the Hell was going on exactly.

Although I won't deny that I also did it to piss him off.

There weren't many recreational activities available on the station these days.

"Move faster!" Frost barked.

The man was way ahead of me, his pace suspiciously just about as fast as a hiding criminal of sorts, according to my experience. Which was just plain wrong. The man was Drake Frost, the mighty lieutenant who could kill anyone on sight in the blink of an eye.

He was rushing, and I didn't like it.

"Not until you tell me where were heading," I tried to bargain.

He ignored me, but I stopped walking to prove to show him I wasn't to be messed with.

Sensing something amiss, Frost stopped midstride, and gave a sneer when he saw me standing, the oh-so subtle challenge hanging in the air.

He walked up to me and growled, "You do _what I say, when I say_. Nothing else. So you might as well get along with the programme and start moving your fat sorry ass before I drag it down the hallway."

And judging by his words, the man apparently meant business.

_Serious business._

I decided to play the safe game and followed him obediently.

I wasn't a fan of playing helpless prisoner, but I was less enthusiastic about getting paralysed waist down.

* * *

After a good twenty minutes of weaving through in and out of tight, shiny corners, we arrived at an area I had never visited before. Cargo crates littered the deck, LOKI mechs going around and assisting the staff with manual labour.

"Stay close," Frost ordered as we approached a locked door, guarded by four Arnold Schwarzenegger's, armed to the teeth with vicious-looking pistols and shotguns and assault rifles, complete with all-so-important ammo mods.

"ID please," one of them said.

"Beta-92451-Foxtrot."

One of them -a Vin Diesel lookalike- gestured towards me. "What about him?"

"He has special clearance."

He appeared unfazed.

"Sorry, but we haven't received any notice from Miss Lawson.

"This is a direct order from the Illusive Man."

The men looked at each other for a bit, and one of them went off -omni-tool activated- presumably to confirm the request with the woman.

"Don't bother," the biotic said smugly. "Your boss isn't around, she's somewhere else handling a personal order form the big man."

Nobody responded.

After awhile, the buff man returned, his expression one of dilemma.

I'd bet a hundred credits Lawson couldn't be reached.

The guards were visibly disturbed.

"Time's a ticking," Frost said. "The Illusive Man wouldn't like that."

Finally, Vin diesel gave in, but not before giving us one last hard look.

"Alright, you can pass."

* * *

Drake Frost removed his helmet and was just about to head over to the sanitising zone when his omni-tool beeped.

"Frost," he answered.

"Apologies, Captain, I'm Nicholson from Transport and Cargo. Apparently my guards have just let you pass the departure checkpoint with another operative, but my scanners have also just picked up the arrival for your shuttle from the planet Baham. So I called up to clear up the error."

Frost's scarred face scrunched up.

"_What error?_ I_ was_ on Baham. I left for it three days ago and just came back!"

"But the cameras-"

The vanguard threw his helmet against the bright metallic floor in a fit of anger, the signature blue hue of biotic energy simmering dangerously around his arms..

The fibreglass visor cracked upon impact.

There could only be one possible reason for the scenario, and it wasn't good.

"Broadcast the message!" he yelled into the comm. "We have an imposter on the station! Stop whoever's at the docking hangar and cancel all departures!"

* * *

I watched on as Drake Frost quickly flipped on the engines of the shuttle, the orange holographic consoles coming to life under his command.

"Attention!" a loud voice boomed over the comm. "We have an imposter posing as Captain Frost on the station! He was lost seen at the departure docks with Grayson Kovac! Arrest them at all costs!"

My head immediately snapped towards the man sitting in the pilot's seat.

_What the Hell?_

The man found me staring at him.

"What the heck are you staring like a stupid git for? Get workin', you idiot!"

"_What?"_

"Get your fucking hands movin'! We ain't got all day!"

It took me a quite a bit of long, hard concentration before I finally pieced the puzzle.

But still, I wasn't sure if-

He turned to see me again, this time obviously exasperated.

With an expression that went something along the line of,_ 'this guy is retarded'_, he morphed himself into a familiar sight.

"Yes, it's me, you retard!" Napier spat. "Now let's get going before you get burned like a pig on flames!"

I quickly snapped myself out of the bout of stupidity and got working.

Thrusters activated?

_Check._

Artificial gravity?

_Check._

Hangar doors open?

_Oh fuck._

"Shit," I cursed. "I can't bypass the hangar controls!"

By this time, our shuttle was already moving forward. We had no choice, Cerberus squads were already flooding towards us back at the docking area.

"God damn it, try again!"

"Can't you just teleport us?!"

"You're too fat!"

Still, the software roughly shoved me out of the way.

"You better hope this works, Kovac. Because if I fail, you're he one with fried brains, not me."

I buckled myself onto the shotgun seat, and prayed for the best.

My gloved fingers dug deeper into the civilian-grade leather as we neared the titanium doors, still sealed as tightly as an obnoxious jar of marmalade.

"Brace yourself!" Napier warned.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped for the best.

* * *

"An imposter? On the station?"

"Yes, sir. Whoever it was managed to escape the station, and he brought with Grayson Kovac with him."

The Illusive Man downed his shot of bourbon.

"What about our sensors? It's impossible that an imposter could have passed them all."

"But _he did_," Lawson admitted, a little shamefully. "The DNA samples, the voice recognition... According to the records, _Frost was on the station_."

"Except he wasn't..."

Miranda Lawson did not like the tone of her superior's voice.

"We're still trying to figure out what was going on... It was as if the imposter had a mole, one who knew everything about Cerberus."

The Illusive Man's glass shattered in his hands, the little shards raining over the smooth sleeve of his pinstriped suit.

"This is more serious than we've thought. Find out exactly what happened and send me a full detailed report within 48 hours. Understand?"

"Y-yes, sir."

* * *

**A/N: Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go rush off and complete my Visual Communications project.**

**In the meantime, do me a favour and review your thoughts (along with OC submissions) and subscribe (if you like it), would you?**

**They're a very big source of motivation to keep the weekly updates on time.**

******P.S. I've noticed that all OC submissions -save for one- so far were renegade style white human males with N7 ranks. To spice things up and add variety, I strongly encourage future submissions to venture somewhere a little more unique, say a female Turian or a Krogan mercenary. Because if everyone's going to give me the same cookie-cut characters, I'd have to come up with my own OCs instead to bring dynamic to the story which would defeat the purpose of getting OC submissions from you guys.**


	15. Sweet, sweet home

**A/N: Hello! How's everybody doing today?**

**Now that my first 2 projects of the term are out of the way, I present to you chapter 15. And I hope you guys enjoyed the 4th of July special.**

**As usual, I appreciate all your OC submissions and reviews.**

**And yes, I'm writing this chapter out now during Visual Communications class... Because I'm a bad kid...**

* * *

"Where the heck are we going?"

"Just wait and see."

It'd been a week since our narrow escape. Napier had gotten us back to Illium, and from there we booked two tickets on the fastest trip back to the Citadel.

Unfortunately only standard seats were available, and so I'd spent the next two days sitting beside a whining baby and a _seriously drunk_ Krogan.

By the time we'd landed and gotten on a cab, my eyes weighed like titanium ball bearings, and my shirt was practically covered in a disgusting mixture of ryncol, chicken soup and baby vomit.

I gingerly took off my abused shirt and tossed it as far away as possible.

"My God, I stink," I said.

"Stop complaining, we're gonna reach soon."

"Got a shirt somewhere?"

Without looking, he opened the glove compartment and handed me a shirt.

_My size._

Well if that wasn't creepy.

Napier drove down the freeway and broke off at the next junction, turning into an area on the station I'd never seen before.

"Kovac, meet Sliversun Strip, sin city at its finest."

My jaw dropped in awe at the sight.

Bright neon lights, extremely tall skyscrapers, and traffic so fast it would make Patrick Dempsey fall in love.

"See that giant fish tank? _Ryuusei_, best damn sushi place in the galaxy. They've even got French blokes at the damn entrance."

I scrunched up my face. "Never trust a Japanese place run by somebody else."

"Heh, gotta go with ya on that."

We landed at a building not far from Ryuusei, the one glowing a brilliant green named 'Tiberius Towers'.

"Oh, you're_ so_ gonna love this, lucky bastard," Napier said.

I looked at the software sceptically.

We didn't exactly share the same definition of_ great_, and so far any luxury he'd introduced to me had been quickly followed with horrifying brushes with death.

"Why? Am I going to die? Are there explosives the building?"

"Smartass. You'll see."

We entered the building, and awkwardly walked towards the elevator in silence. The Asari over the 'Home Spun' counter looked over at me with dagger-sharp glares.

_What a barbarian_, I imagined them saying.

The pungent stench of alcohol and baby vomit didn't really aid me in my rep preservation.

The man standing by the elevator -who I presumed to be security- gave us a hard look, and asked, "Are you visiting, sir?"

"Residents, actually," Napier replied coolly. "Fourth floor, apartment 4B12."

The man pondered for a bit.

"Do you, uh, have a resident key card, sir?

Napier confidently reached a hand into his pocket.

My eyes followed it with careful scrutiny.

_And voila!_

It was subtle, but not invisible.

My keen eyes caught the slight movement under the thin cloth of his pants pocket.

Seemingly out of thin air, a slim, rectangular, almost indiscernible outline appeared, ever so slightly forming an imprint against the fabric for just a split second before the software removed his hands again.

And in his hand, a perfectly formed card.

Well, I'll be damned if he wasn't Harry Potter of the future.

"... alright, you're good to go, sirs. Sorry for the inconvenience."

We wordlessly entered the elevator.

Napier slot the key card into the slot, and the lift automatically went up, presumably to our floor.

"Well if that wasn't_ awkward_."

Napier dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand. "_Meh_, don't worry about it."

I arched an eyebrow.

"Should I be worried about your little magic trick instead?"

He feigned innocence.

"What?"

"Don't even try to pull that bullshit on me." I gave him a sly grin. "I know you know I saw what you did."

_Bing._

The doors opened.

He stepped out, and I followed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

We turned into a rather narrow corridor, one side of it pure glass, the bright lights of the rest of the strip filtering through the striped pattern in streaks, casting horizontal, long shadows of black against red and orange.

All of this, of course, including the ubiquitous _vroom_ of the rushing cars weaving in and out of the hectic traffic.

"Don't act coy with me, Napier. I'm gonna get it out of you someday."

He smirked.

"Hmph, you'd wish."

We walked towards the door at the end of the corridor, where the door opened as soon as he stepped right in front of it.

"Welcome, Mr. Kovac," a computerised voice greeted.

"Well, whataya think?" Napier queried, triumphantly stretching his hands wide. "_Casa di Kovac_. Nice apartment eh?"

"_Apartment?"_ I said in disbelief. "This place is a _God damn mansion_."

We were in the living room -which was conveniently the size of my apartment back home- furnished with brown, cosy couches and sleek recliners, all centred around a rectangular, smooth-edged mahogany coffee table.

In the middle of it all was a rather large as heck fireplace.

Crystal chandeliers littered the ceilings.

"It's electrical," Napier noted. "You can turn it off anytime you want."

We walked over to said fire place, where the very spacious living room linked to an open concept kitchen, complete with oak cabinets and marble table tops.

And what else spoke extravagance more than a gigantic wall-mounted TV in the kitchen?

I peered past the fireplace, and found the second section of the large living room, this one coupled with a bar stocked full of top-shelf hooch, and also, another large TV.

I walked up the flight of stairs beside it -which was oh-so-coincidentally made of glass, coupled with a patch of pebbles and lush plants conveniently placed below it- to find a balcony, a mezzanine of sorts, looking over the living room.

It was outfitted with a range of sports equipment; two treadmills, an exercise bike, a heavy punching back, a chin-up bar, and a shelf filled with various dumbbells and gloves, all laid out across a large exercise mat.

"Isn't this a little overkill?" I asked. "Even if both of us are staying here."

He gave a shrug of his shoulders.

"Hey, better to have more than you need than less than you need."

We went further into the second floor, walking past a large mahogany-tiled, mosaic-like wall.

We entered the first bedroom.

A large bed with simple, smooth, silky white sheets and fluffy oversized pillows laid against the left wall, coupled with two bedside tables on both sides, and a pair of the sleek recliners resting near the doorway.

_Oh look, another gigantic wall-mounted screen!_

To the right was a walk-in wardrobe, and a door further ahead led into a massive bathroom. Marble top vanities, stainless steel taps, nice, state-of-the-art toilet,_ and yes_ - a holographic screen at the side of the mirror for you to view those routine news reports while you brush your teeth.

Better yet - a bubbling, large _hot tub_.

I started to feel like Bill Gates.

We exited the very nice master bedroom and turned left. There, a very huge (have I said this word a million times already?) workshop of sorts greeted my eyes.

A weapons bench, an armour locker with enough room to fit multiple suits, a weapons locker, most likely packed full of anything an army had, and a tool shelf.

Did I mention there was a minibar at the side?

All under a glaring blue light.

A techie's heaven, in short.

We walked past the area and turned into yet another bedroom.

This one wasn't as large, but still definitely spacious.

A similar bed dominated the middle of the room. A large wardrobe occupied the right wall, accompanied by a small table and chair, equipped with a terminal. Facing the bed was a bathroom, though this one smaller than the first. Toilet, marble vanity, mirror... And of course, a very spacious shower, complete with marble flooring.

"How much does this place _cost?" _I asked incredulously.

"A million credits? Maybe,_ I dunno_."

Figured.

We walked down the second flight of stairs just outside, this one furnished with a slightly larger garden page, now with the addition of luscious wall vines.

The common bathroom was placed at the side, along with what I presumed to be the second guest room.

Generic - but of course, contextually speaking.

Linked with it was the previously seen kitchen, though now I noticed a very large conference table spanned the area close to the wall.

I looked at Napier.

"_Really? A conference table? At a place like this_?"

"What?!" he responded innocently. "They're great for buffets!"

We continued on, and I paused at the sight of the waterfall.

This guy was _seriously_ pushing the limits.

We turned into the last and final room.

A smaller bar lined the left wall while a pair of recliners and a coffee table occupied the right.

Deeper into the bright room was a very large office desk, while shelves filled to the brim litter the inner walls. A terminal, a spacious chair...

I highly suspected no work would be done here at all.

Ever.

"Why is there an office?"

"Eh, don't know. But it makes this place look kinda productive, don't 'cha think?"

With our tour of the _palace_ finally finished, we walked back out to the living room.

"How did _you_ get this place again?"

"_Magic_," Napier said smugly.

True enough, I guess.

The software continued, "Anyway, this sweet crib is yours now. Try not to thrash it."

I sensed something else coming along.

"Anything else to add?"

He smirked, then reached into his pocket, and pulled out a silver band.

"Here."

I looked at him weirdly.

"Are you proposing?"

He let out an exasperated sigh, like _why-am-I-talking-to-this-idiot._

"It's a ring, made of platinum. Wear this on, and I can track your heart rate, diagnostics, the works. And I'll be able to know where you are and come straight to you."

I slowly took the ring from him and put it on my right ring finger.

He looked at me expectantly.

"_What?"_ I said defensively. "Were you expecting me to say_ I love you_ or something?"

The software rolled his eyes, then produced a datapad out of well, _nowhere._

He handed it to me.

"What's this?" I asked curiously.

"Your transfer application."

"Application to where?"

"Citadel Security, Special Response," he answered, wry smile on his face.

"_Excuse_ _me?"_

"Figured you should have a job to keep you occupied, you know, so you won't miss me so much while I'm gone. Set up a couple of legit background info and set you up for the job. Thought you'd appreciate the familiarity."

"But-"

"No no, no need to thank me. Also, thought I'd should give you a heads up."

He transformed himself into an older man, in his fifties, a thick mane of grey hair, littered with occasional streaks of black. The cybernetic scars on his now-rough face glowing faintly light blue. Massive and in iconic Cerberus colours, my guardian looked eerily similar to a future Drake Frost,

"This is Randall Ezno," Napier said, voice incredibly deep and raky, like a fork against gravel. "Top lieutenant of Cerberus, also the owner of this apartment."

"Let me guess: he's dead."

"Smart lad, you. C-Sec found Napier's body, so his ID's off the table now. Decided to take out this old man, much more useful. I can work from inside Cerberus and give you heads up on trouble. Especially now. The Illusive Man's not gonna let your escape go_ that easily_."

"Gee, thanks for the reassurance."

Napier gestured to the datapad in my hands.

"So yeah, read the stuff over. I reckon you've got at least two weeks before you start work, so get a shower, would ya? You stink to high heaven."

And _poof._

He was gone.

And here I am, left to my own devices.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, well shit.**

**I'm _so, so sorry_ for the 1 week delay.**

**So things happened, and I temporarily sunk into a bout of unproductive depression... So yeah.**

**And I do find this chapter a little lacklustre, but I've done my best considering the circumstances. Hope you guys don't mind.**

**This month will be the 'hectic' month for my academic life, so near-future updates might be delayed as well.**

**So yeah, see you guys.**


	16. Meet the team

**A/N: Hello! I've received quite a few unique OC submissions, and they're plenty great! Keep 'em rolling!**

**Also, the poll will be up indefinitely, so unless I've mentioned it, it'll remain on my profile page, so vote if you haven't done so.**

**P.S. daarb123, a reader who's been with us since the beginning now has an OC story of his own, named __****Mass Effect: Indomitable** . Go get a read. I haven't checked it out yet, but I probably will as soon as I find the time (if I can remember). Tell me (and him) what you think!

* * *

"Forty-five! Forty-six! Come on, don't stop! You're nearly there!"

The balding man fell onto the cold hard floor chest-first, despite the cheers of encouragement.

"Damn it! There goes my lunch budget for the week!" the Turian complained, as he transferred 50 credits to the red-haired woman standing beside him.

She gave a wide grin. "Whoever said_ not_ to bet against the home team obviously had no idea what they were talking about."

"I can't believe this, Jade!" the older man said indignantly. "You didn't have _any_ confidence in me?"

"You have to admit, Barry, you _are_ getting on in age..."

The Turian chuckled. "Gotta admit, though, you _did_ break her expectations. She said you'd give out at 44 push ups, _tops_."

Jade glared at her colleague. "You didn't have to tell him that."

"Can't help it, I'm an honest man."

She was about to throw a dummy heat sink at the damned birdman when a loud, shrill voiced sliced through the air.

"_What the Hell_, Zarkus!"

The trio snapped their heads to the source: one _very_ angry Kara Sanders, conveniently dressed in full gear, side arm snugly holstered on her left thigh.

The furious red-haired C-Sec officer flung her datapad at them, which the nimble Turian deftly caught before it struck him in the head.

"You asshole! Tamara's hasn't even been in the hospital for a week and you've already found a replacement for her!"

The two humans switched their focus to the Turian.

_"What?"_ Jade asked in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Kara stormed over, snatched the bloody datapad from Zarkus' talons and handed them to the dark-haired woman.

It read:

* * *

**Name: Grayson Theodore Kovac**

**D.O.B. : 24th November 2152**

**P.O.B: Cambridge, Massachusetts, United North American States, Earth**

**Gender: Male**

**Race: Human, Caucasian**

**Height: 178 cm**

**Weight: 75 kg**

**Eye colour: Green**

**Hair colour: Black**

**Records summary: Graduated from McGill University in 2175, majoring in Electrical and Electronic Engineering. Entered Boston Police Department directly after graduation. Unanimous praise from superior officers on performance and work ethics led to Officer Kovac's fast-tracked joining of the local Special Response Unit, SWAT, within seven years of his career. Although highly spoken of for his professionalism, one should note that Officer Kovac had once been charged for assault on civilian Colbert Kovac, though charges have later been dropped.**

* * *

The datapad included other snippets of the man's background, along with a recent photo.

Jade handed over the electronic document to Barry, while Kara continued her rant. "You're getting this random bloke from dumb truck Boston to replace a powerful biotic?!"

The Turian raised his talons in a futile attempt at appeasement. "Easy there. You're from Earth too, Sanders, you should know better than anyone that growing up and working on homeworlds doesn't mean you're a country bumpkin. Look at how you've turned out; great!"

"I've got to admit, the man's right," Barry interjected. "Our new guy seems alright. I mean, his résumé's pretty good."

"Barold Fischer! I can't believe you're saying this!"

Jade decided it was best to intervene. "Kara, _calm down._ There has to be a good reason why Zarkus did this."

She gave a not-so-subtle nod of her head at their squad leader.

"You almost got a bullet to the head yesterday, Sanders," Zarkus explained. "And as you've said, Tamara has only been gone for less than a week, but our performance has already nosedived. We _need_ that role filled up, especially now that Kaldin's away."

"But once Tamara's out of Huerta, this Kovac guy's leaving, right?" Jade prompted encouragingly.

Zarkus' mandibles twitched.

"Actually... this would be a permanent transfer. Executor Pallin-"

"Oh screw Pallin!" Kara burst out. "You've been planning to kick out Tamara all along!"

"Kara-"

"Executor Pallin's already declared Tamara unfit for future duty, we can't have her back even if we burn down his place, Sanders!"

"I-"

"_Ahem_, excuse me, officers, your _guest is here_."

The arguing squad stopped for moment, and found a particular man standing alongside their receptionist.

* * *

The red-haired woman in full gear looked at me with a deadly glare.

"_Thank you_, Veshra," the Turian said a little awkwardly. "We'll take it from here."

The Asari receptionist left us in the pregnant silence.

_Well, if this isn't awkward._

The Turian walked up to me and extended a hand.

"Sergeant Zarkus, head of Echo squad, Citadel Security Special Response Unit. You must be Officer Kovac."

I shook his hand.

"Just Grayson, thanks."

Zarkus proceeded to introduce the rest of the team.

He pointed to a man his around his early fifties. He had great physique, but also hair that left _a lot_ to be desired. To put it simply – a thinning, greying crown in the shape of the Mediterranean Basin.

"This is Barold Fischer, our chief negotiator."

"Please, call me Barry."

"This is our resident sniper, Jade Pearson."

The black-haired woman gave me a reserved, forced smile, something along the lines of _I-secretly-dislike-you-but-I-can't-show-it_ . Her cognac eyes refused to meet mine, and instead stared straight at the far wall behind me.

"And this is Kara Sanders, our assault specialist."

Also known as the hostile, nasty, would-be killer of me.

Her bright blue eyes pierced through mine unforgivingly.

"I'll be at the armoury if you need me," she said through gritted teeth.

Sanders stormed off, taking care to bump me at the shoulders during her exit.

"I uh, apologise for her… behavior," Zarkus interjected. "Our colleague, Tamara, has been injured in the line of fire a few days ago. Sanders_…_ she isn't taking it well."

_Ah,_ the cliché case of an overly concerned squad mate.

"Also, we have another team member, Kaldin, our tactical technician. He's returned to Sur'Kesh for the time being."

"I see."

"Anyway, we really should get to business. I'd take it you know the purpose of your transfer, Officer Kovac?"

"No, not really, to be honest. I was told I would be briefed over here."

There was a short pause.

"I uh, really should check on the equipment..."

And with that, Fischer left, leaving the office empty, save for me, Zarkus and Pearson.

The Turian was about to say something when his omni-tool beeped.

I wasn't an expert on Turian expressions, but I thought saw a hint of relief when Zarkus read his message.

"Excuse me, but I have an urgent meeting with Executor Palin. Jade, if you would so kindly brief Officer Kovac in my place?"

"Of course."

The layer of unease in the air thickened in the absence of the Turian.

The two of us awkwardly sat around the conference table.

My new colleague talked me through the job description, which really wasn't that different my duties back in reality. Sure, there weren't any flying calls or violent blue women from where I came from, but hey, the job scope was similar enough.

"As Zarkus' mentioned, Kaldin's gone for now, so you'll take over his position of tactical technician when we have an operation."

"Shouldn't be a problem, I've done this before."

"So... do you have any questions?"

"Nope, not yet at least."

She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped at the last second. Her troubled expression lingered longer than I was comfortable with.

I decided to break the silence.

"You said we're on patrol duty today right? Mind showing me the locker room?"

* * *

Kara Sanders' fingers slipped over the slot, causing the heat sink to fall onto the metal floor with a high-pitched _cling._

"Still pissed?"

The assault specialist spun around to find a smiling Fischer.

She let out a grunt. "What do _you_ think?"

"Come on, it's part of the job. Like it or not, you have to deal with it," the older man said gently.

"I'm not backing down, Barry. If Zarkus wants this guy,_ fine_, but I'll make _both_ their lives hard."

"And risk getting fired for insubordination?"

She didn't reply.

Fischer moved to stand beside his colleague.

"No? I guessed as much. Look, after Tamara's out of Huerta, we're going to write endless emails to those on top until they hire her back, alright?"

Sanders put down her Predator.

"I'm sorry I snapped, Barry, it's just... I can't help but think Tamara's injury wasn't an accident."

The older man suddenly tensed up, and shifted to face Sanders directly. "What are you talking about?"

She bit her lip. "When we were gearing up for the operation last Friday, Tamara told me she discovered something important, something to do with Pallin... And then she just- _got shot_."

The C-Sec officer covered her face with her hands.

"I don't know," she said, voice slightly muffled. "She's such a powerful biotic. How could her barriers fail to block out that bullet?"

Fischer struggled to find the correct words. This was serious, especially since the rumours about Pallin's corruption were started to swell up.

"Maybe..."

Thankfully, he was saved from potential trouble by the entering of Zarkus, Jade and their newest member.

The veteran noticed all of them were already dressed for duty.

"Fischer," Zarkus said. "Show Kovac the ropes. He's with you for today."

"Got it."

"Pearson, you're with Sanders. I'll be going solo. We're heading out to the Presidium Junction on Zakera Ward. Prep in 10 and move!"

* * *

Our patrol was relatively uneventful, for the most part.

We had been cruising around the ward for two hours without any interruption. Radio chatter was sparse, apart from the mandatory periodic updates.

"You picked a nice day to start work, kid. Nice and quiet around here it seems."

"Yeah, today's kinda slow."

"Never say it's a slow day," my partner suddenly chided. "It's a jinx."

I dismissed it with a simple "alright".

Almost two hundred years into the future in a videogame, and people were _still_ superstitious.

Go figure.

"There's something you need to know," Fischer said suddenly.

His tone told me he wasn't kidding, not that he looked the type to, anyway.

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Kara... there's a reason she's so pissed at you."

Now usually when someone says that to you, you should be worried.

"And it's not your fault."

And when you hear that magic sentence, I'd tell you to run.

_Run far, far away_, like the song.

Of course, this wasn't exactly an available option for me.

Sitting in a skycar, flying high up in the air at 50 miles an hour - not exactly an ideal situation.

Did I mention parachutes weren't among the list of equipment on the vehicle?

"You know about our team mate, Tamara?" he asked.

"The one WIA?"

Fischer turned left at the next intersection.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"What's she got to do with me?"

"Well... long story. But the thing is this: the higher-ups declared our friend unfit to return to duty even after she gets out -if she gets out- of Huerta. Kara's close to her, and-"

"And I'm here to take Tamara's place, so now Kara hates me because she thinks I stole her friend's job."

"How did you know?" Fischer asked with slanted eyes. "Did Zarkus tell you?"

"Nope. Let's just say something similar happened when I was back at Boston P.D."

We stopped at a red light. My partner gave a low whistle.

"Sounds rough."

"It was."

We continued forward, our car weaving in and out of traffic like a serpent.

"Anyways, I guess I just wanted to give you a heads up. You know, just in case that girl tries to do something stupid."

"Thanks, Barry, I appreciate it."

He smiled. "No problem, Grayson. Can I call you Grayson?"

I gave a small laugh. "Yeah, why not?"

Our conversation veered to a more light-hearted topic, such as our respective lives before joining C-Sec. I had to tweak a little bit of my past to make it fit, but it was all good other than that. The records Napier had set up for me were surprisingly -if not alarmingly- accurate.

"... so I was chasing this dumbass across half of Tayseri Ward, and then-"

"Attention all units: robbery in progress at ExoGeni Corporation on the Presidium. Nearby units please respond."

In less than a second, Zarkus' voice joined the chatter.

"This is Zarkus of Echo team. We're at the Presidium Junction on Zakera, heading over to the scene asap."

"Copy. Delta is en-route from HQ as reinforcements, over."

Fischer deftly turned our car around.

"See, kid? Your 'slow day' isn't as slow as heck now, is it?"


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Okay, guys. I just want to clarify some things before you embark on this new chapter.**

**1) The poll****_ does not_****, I repeat, ****_does not_**** define a confirmed love interest for Grayson. As the poll states, it's merely a gauge to see how many of you have an opinion on our lovely protagonist's****_ potential_**** love life. The poll is merely reference for how I want to -gasp- destroy your 'expectations' in future arcs. And just in case you're wondering,****_ no,_**** I don't have a special someone (yet) for our nice bachelor over here.**

**2) All of the OCs featured as of now are created by yours truly. OCs submitted by readers will (mostly) appear at a much later stage, although those that I've received with very unique backgrounds will be presented in appropriate chronological order.**

**Alright, now the clarification's done, you may smoothly proceed to chapter 17. :D**

* * *

"Fischer, what's your location?"

"We're already at the Financial District. ETA is three minutes."

I could hear Zarkus' subtle grunt of approval over the radio.

"Kovac, brief us."

I brought up my omni-tool.

"Alright, ExoGeni Corp. has two exits, the main entrance which the public uses, and the back entrance used of large or confidential cargo, as well as VIPs. Blue prints show forty floors with only three access points; the elevator via the main lobby, staircase A on the east side of the building, and staircase B on the other side. The main lobby is situated right by the main entrance, but the stairs are only accessible by the back entrance."

"_Forty floors?_ How the_ Hell_ are we gonna climb_ that?"_

"That's what we're trained for, Sanders."

Sarcasm dripped from Zarkus' words like sandwich gravy.

Our car landed in front of a skyscraper, its floor-to-ceiling tinted windows threatening to blind my eyes under the bright, ariticial sunlight of the Citadel.

The gigantic, white neon-lit sign **_EXOGENI CORP._ **stood proudly atop the building.

The rest of the team were already waiting for us, standing around a uniformed officer.

"About time you got your slow ass here," our assault specialist remarked.

With a helping of a sneer on the side.

"C_ouldn't resist taking the scenic route_. We stopped for an espresso too."

Sanders shot me a look that could kill.

"_Stop it_," Zarkus barked. "We've got a situation on our hands. Officer Campbell, you were saying?"

The uniform beside me replied, "More than five gunmen were spotted by witnesses. Some say eight, some say six, everyone's got a different number."

"What about the cameras?"

"Useless. Computer records show they were hacked just minutes before the heist started. Approximately five hostages are inside, including chairman Alex Hunt and several of the higher-ups. We're still working on confirming the identities of the others."

"Okay, seal off a half-mile radius. I don't want any of those buzzing reporters around here, got it?" Zarkus ordered.

"Yes, sir!"

And off Campbell went.

"Alright, any ideas, ladies?"

"We could split into three teams and cover all the access points?" Pearson suggested.

"We can't, one of us will be alone," Barry rejected. "We have to choose two out of three."

There was a momentary silence.

"Kovac," Zarkus said. "Suggestions?"

I brought up my omni-tool again.

"The main lobby is split into two floors; ground level and mezzanine, connected by stairs on both sides, and is the only way to reach the elevator. It's the fastest route, but we're going to be extremely exposed while climbing the stairs. Even if we're not flanked, I'm not going to rule out the possibility of an ambush once the doors open on the upper floors. Staircases A and B run through every floor, but they have just as many blind spots, and the narrow area means limited space for manoeuvring. The distance between both staircases means we can't act as swift reinforcements if the other team's attacked. So there's really no 'better option' if you ask me."

"We can get uniforms to cover the main entrance," Pearson said. "And we can split into two groups and take a staircase each. We'll each cross-clear alternate floors and exchange stairs."

Zarkus nodded in agreement.

"The plan's far from perfect, but it's the best we have. Alright, Pearson, go with Fischer and take staircase A. Kovac and Sanders will come with me and take B."

"Woah woah, wait a sec," Sanders suddenly said. "_FNG*_ here isn't coming with us."

"_Excuse me?"_

"We need one of us to stay down here and run things. _You're_ the techie, remember?"

I looked at our team leader expectantly.

"She's... right. We need somebody to hold the fort. Kovac, I'm putting you in charge of coordination. Try getting us as much info as you can."

I wanted to refute his decision, but I ultimately decided against it.

Orders were orders.

I gave him a reluctant "Yes, sir," and took off my Securitel helmet.

No point wearing it if I wasn't going to be in the field.

"Alright, get your weapons and let's move!"

* * *

"TOC*, this is Echo One, we're entering the building."

"Same goes for Echo Two."

"Copy."

Zarkus tightened his grip on his Vindicator, staying close right behind the cover of Sanders and her omni-shield.

They successfully passed the second floor without incident.

"Second floor's clear," Fischer whispered into the comm.

"Ditto for us on the third," Sanders said.

"Copy."

"Kovac," the Turian asked. "How are the cameras coming along?"

"Not through yet. Whoever we're up against clearly know their stuff. I'm still trying to get past the loops."

"Acknowledged."

* * *

"No action on the sixth floor," Zarkus reported.

"None here on the seventh, too."

"Copy," I replied over the comm, as I've had for the last half an hour.

The stress was vexingly familiar.

Sitting in a C-Sec shuttle, looking over the terminal, checking the comms, trying to crack the encryption code of the hacked cameras.

I had been spoilt by the loud explosions, the action from my past adventures with Napier.

Following rules of conduct seemed so foreign now, so uncomfortable.

I shifted in my seat restlessly, flexing the fingers of my now-ungloved hands.

The soft, light fabric of the gloves, usually a welcome comfort, was now irritating. My hands missed the weight of the metal plates on my previous gauntlets.

_Focus, Grayson. You've done this for ten years already._

* * *

"This is Echo Two, approaching floor twenty-one."

"You're heading into chemical lab territory now till the next five levels," Kovac caution. "Proceed with caution."

"Roger that."

A layer of unnerving silence hung in the air, accompanied only by the faint humming of the air-conditioning and the slight tap of their boots on the polished marble tiles.

The operation had been smooth-sailing so far. Nothing had happened throughout their search.

Which also meant there was no progress to speak of, either.

The console of their door beeped, glowing red.

"Damn it," Jade cursed. "Our door's locked."

"Give me a moment."

Programming scripts scrolled through at the speed of light on the holographic console.

Which meant Kovac was working his magic.

Jade's finger wrapped around the trigger of her Predator, left hand raised high, carrying her omni-shield.

_Beep._

"Done. Echo Two, you're good to go."

"Roger, thanks."

The sniper was about to tap on the now-green console when she felt a gloved hand on her shoulder.

"_Stop_," Barry whispered.

"What?"

"_Listen_."

The sniper strained her ears.

_Hissssssss._

_Gas._

They put on their breathers without a word.

"_Thanks_," she whispered back.

"Don't mention it."

It was good, having Barry watch her back.

Not that Zarkus or Kara were inept, but Barry was the most experienced of them all.

And he was meticulous, always noticing things others never did.

"This is Echo Two," Jade said. "Unknown gas on twenty-one, we're putting on breathers."

"Got it," Kara replied.

The duo tread lightly through the laboratory, taking care not step on a fallen test tube or hit a glass cabinet.

Unlike the offices downstairs, which were mostly intact, the lab was _wrecked._

Ransacked, like a scene one would expect in a burglarised apartment.

They were halfway through the floor when Jade bit back a curse:

Four bodies, three males and one female, all clad in lab suits and goggles, laying on the floor with warped, pained expressions, eyes open.

Thin, maroon lines traced the girth of their necks.

The shattered remains of a glass beaker rested beside them.

"My God..."

Kovac's voice crackled to life over the comm. "Echo Two? Report status."

"We found four scientists on floor twenty one."

"I'll get medevac on standby."

"Don't bother," Barry said. "They're dead. Their necks were slit."

"Move on," Zarkus ordered.

"Copy. Come one, Jade, let's move."

And they pushed forward, though the officers made an effort to not step on the streaks of dried blood stretching across the pearly white tiles.

It was difficult to scrub the image out of her mind.

"The look on their faces... they must've died slowly..."

"Hey," Barry said gently. "Our job is to get this done asap so nobody else has to suffer the same fate, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..."

They covered the rest of the floor, thankfully without encountering anymore casualties.

But their luck didn't hold.

The C-Sec officers were approaching the exit to the stairwell B when they were stopped in their tracks by another small pile of corpses.

Scientists, just like the previous ones.

Except this time, there weren't any slits.

Their skin had turned blue, their fingers limply laying against the metallic door.

Their eyes were mercifully shut.

Barry flicked on his omni-tool.

"Chlorine," he announced unceremoniously.

Jade wondered what would've happened if her partner hadn't warned them.

"They look like they died trying to claw their way out..."

"Poor bastards. Gunmen must've sealed 'em in the room, left 'em to die."

Without a word, they exited the lab, and shut the door behind them.

"Twenty-one's clear," Barry reported. "Except we discovered another three bodies."

"Twenty's good as well."

"Copy."

* * *

**A/N: There will be tactical lingo in future chapters, so I'll insert a star (*) whenever a new one pops up. All of these are genuine jargon used among SWAT units (at least that's what the internet says). I've used Flashpoint and SWAT 4 (still the best game ever) as reference to these sequences, so let me know if they seem real enough or aren't up to par!**

**FNG: Freaking New Guy**

**TOC: Tactical Operation Command**


	18. Announcement - delays

**A/N: Apologies for the delay (again). My grandfather passed away on Friday 2 weeks ago and I had to fly back overseas for his funeral, and almost immediately after I landed back in Singapore, I got a call saying my _other_ grandfather had a heart attack, and was in the hospital. He's been in critical condition since then and I've spent most of my time after school at the hospital. **

**So yeah, just thought I should give an explanation about the lack of updates. I can't see any substantial updates coming out in the near future due to my hectic schedule right now, so yeah... **

**Just thought I should make an announcement after a few of you have been messaging me, urging me to quicken my pace.**

**I will however, try to cramp in bits in pieces of writing as long as I get the chance, and upload 18 as soon as possible.**

**- ConvictionSC**


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